I feel sick. Or maybe it’s just fear of change creeping into my coffee.
If I make it to “Freshly Tossed” tonight it’s a good chance everything will be fine. Or I’m just going to play in traffic.
Why my nerves get to me is beyond understanding, I am capable, competent and a theatrical whore the only thing bad that can happen is if I get fired and I have already been told in front of witnesses that, “there will always be a place for Brandy.” Ugh, but it’s really just psycho babble crap that makes my stomach turn. Breath, relax, shuffle ball change, I’m ok you’re ok. This is the time when a parental unit is handy but I’m fresh outta those at the moment.
Okay comrades, once more into the breech, or penthouse apartment as it were.
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