anyway, so what was i saying?
i finally fucking finished. my memoirs: they're done. i started writing on july eighteenth and finished september twenty-third. in all it turned out to be one hundred and forty-eight pages at rough draft. after editing it was down to one thirty-nine, but with chapter title pages and a few late edition scribbles here and there, it wound up at one hundred forty-three. it was only the third draft. i didnt have time to touch it up any more than that. on october first, the day it was due, i put it all together and handed it in. very last minute. down to the wire. thats my humor, i guess. but whatever, im done. i finally fucking finished.
that night i had a cheeseburger for dinner and watched tv until i fell asleep.
the next day i woke up and read a book for class and then discussed retail promotions with a label manager on line before going to work. we showed the debates and it was packed wall to wall. the bar was quiet while the politicians spoke. you could hear a pin drop. then palin would say something stupid and the place would erupt in laughter. then the shush nazi's would start shushing and the place would go still again. needless to say, i made a shitload of money.
i took the next day off. i had to run errands. i went to the g-star store in soho and exchanged a jacket for a bigger size. the designer cut took some getting used to, i thought all the coats were too small for me at first. then i noticed how everyone in the shop was dressed. with their hip fashions, all g-star brand, fitting them like a glove, practically sewn into their skin. i decided that was just how it was supposed to look and accepted the XXL. it fits me perfectly.
that night i went to a dinner party at italian wine merchants. as the name promised, there was a lot of wine. it was a party for friends of my girlfriend but i didnt feel dragged along. i met some interesting people. some i liked and some i could live without. the food was excellent. we went to a bar afterward where they played a lot of cheesy rock anthems that drunk people like to sing along too. i wore my new coat and felt confident and good looking.
saturday i woke up hungover and got music together for a gig later that night. i murdered the crowd with all party classics, something i rarely do. i prefer to play deeper, lesser known or unreleased tracks usually. but for some reason i didnt have the energy to put into that kind of set, so played mostly hip hop and r&b anthems, with a few current hits and some dancehall thrown in for good measure. i drank six or seven makers mark manhattan's and stumbled home giddy.
sunday it began to hit me. my body started crapping out. i had the sniffles first, then a slight cough. i worked that night and thanked the mercy of the universe it was slow. by midnight i was stuffy and feeling week. i didnt take one drink. i didnt hang out after. i closed the bar and came home and passed out on the couch. today i feel like shit but its all good. at least i dont have to be anywhere.
meanwhile, the economy is collapsing and i have homework to do.
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