One of the Worst Ones

Celebrity guest star in last night’s dream, none other than Rosie O’Donnell herself. Details are fuzzy. We were working together, on a new show, I can only assume to be the rumored MSNBC show I read about yesterday. She’s doing talky blogs while in hair and make-up. It’s a dream montage of the first day. Cut to sunset on a white sand beach, warm breeze off the water. I’m tiptoeing through the sand in my gold strappy sandals, pencil leg black pants (I am no longer a fatty! back to my right size!) and there she is with shiny black hair much wispier than I imagined. She’s in full make-up, red red lips, really pretty. Her blouse is a blue/grey plaid-like print with silver threads that sparkle in the setting sun. She passes me a flute of champagne and lifts her own in a toast, “Well, we had a good run, Kid.” We drink. I wake. This morning I learn talks have broke off with the network and her show is kaput.

This week I’ve been doing something a bit different. I’ve been turning off the computer in the evening, going to the bedroom, watching the 6pm CBC NB news, then Corrie, then reading. No computer all evening. No computer work (though the reading has sometimes been work related). I didn’t even turn the computer on at all on Monday when I got home from Mighty day. Sometimes you just need to disconnect, disentangle, to get some perspective, to recharge creativity cells. There are only so many ways to say this person is doing great stuff.

Mood: achy
Drinking: coffee, nowhere even near the good stuff
Listening To: nathan wiley! needle in the groove
Hair: i’m gonna cut it! dammit! today! on my own!

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