Today is the first day of my life...or maybe it's the first day towards my demise, who's to say? I am embarking on a new career, in a new city and I have no idea what the fuck I was thinking!
Last month, I finally made the decision to uproot myself from my comfortable, safe, boring little life and move to Vancouver to start my comedy career. A bold career move at 33!
Yesterday, I finally moved into my new ' $900 shared accommodations; listen to your roommates hair growing in her sleep because the walls are so paper fucking thin that if you touched them, they would crinkle', luxury apartment!
This morning, I sit in my new room, surrounded by 4 'walls' of tissue paper, a mountain of unpacked boxes and an audience of voices in my head that say 'what a Fucktard! You actually think you are funny enough to make it? You will be eating jam from a homeless guys toes in a month and you won't even be able to afford the bread to spread it on!'
Right now, all I want to do is figure out how can I get away with using a vibrator without the new roommate hearing it! For $900 a month, I should be allowed to masturbate all over the apartment, using a diesel powered meat curtain machine that would overshadow the sounds of most chainsaws, without anyone even blinking an eye!
Hmm what would MacGyver do? Maybe a pair of almost dead batteries will do the trick? Or one fresh one and one dead one = not so many vibrate-y sounds?
I'm not horny, I just need to take my mind off of all I have to do...um so I guess you could call it Procrastination Masturbation. That way at least I can feel like I have accomplished something today. But alas, these walls won't allow me to get the Job done!
Unpacking has never been my forte, but neither has anything else in life...good thing I am so optimistic about this fictional career!
After reading this blog post, all I can think is 'holy shitballs, what have I done?'
Over and out
Trisha
~I surrender to The Writing Womb~
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