seabiscuits and gravy

I have the most fucked sleeping schedule known to MAN and lichen alike.
Saywhat?
Come Monday, this will suck bowling balls.

Went to get coffee with old school chums (aka: Dana and Britta). Went to a bar afterward. Saw more People I Went To High School With, including the drummer in the band. One of the guitar players asked to feel my hair(I should start charging). Later, he gave a shout out from onstage, saying I was gorgeous. Which is nice, as I'm lookin' swank in black yoga pants and an old t-shirt. He was okay, but nothing to write home about. We left soon after one too many Counting Crows cover songs.

p.s. locopuff, get back here. >:(

they keep telling me, "you've made the right choice!"

It's entirely too hot to work out. But I did, because I'm not losing this confidence.
Showered and shaved, I feel even better. Legs smooooth and lovely to touch, a little nervous, a bit on edge...for tomorrow. But stepping out of the shower, catching a glimpse of myself. No makeup, hair tied up, pinned back, I felt comfortable thinking "beautiful". Not perfect, never will, don't want to be. Not perfect, but me.
It is okay, you know.
Everything.

And if it's not now, it will be.

I sound lame, I know this. And in what seems to be a "transitional" phase, I may misfire. Thanks to those who bear my ramblings, listen, and/or understand.

I hope this job doesn't suck.
:}