DOARS- Day 3- Wet Sleeves

Dear Diary,

Now before you freak out and assume that today was just as bad as yesterday- let me tell you it wasn't. It was a pretty boring day all in all, but hey a boring day is better than a horrible one!

I woke up around 10, which in my opinion should already count as the afternoon. It was so late that the birds were chirping. That's not how I like waking up- and probably never will be. At least I'm pretty when I wake up- that ought to cheer me up, right?

I was determined that today would be better than yesterday, so I was gonna keep my plans to a minimum and take it easy aside from going to work. So to start this lovely, not-horrible-day I go to take a shower. Let me just ask you for a moment, do you think I would have hot water the first time I try to shower in my own shower? (I've been showering at the gym, by the way, so I have showered since moving here.) If you answered no, then you get a cookie. Bring proof of your correct answer to my agent and he/she will set you up with one cookie of your preference.

My next idea is to make today a better day by actually eating a meal. To that end, I make my brunch of future sports stars and head to the bathroom.
As soon as I make enough money I am going to buy a table and chairs. It's going to happen, you just wait and see. I'm a determined woman and when I go for something I go all out- that's why I know that I'm going to be a sports star... and that I'm going to have a furnished "cottage" at some point.

You know what I hate more than washing the dishes? Getting my sleeves wet while doing so. Is there a worse sensation than the ends of your sleeves being wet? I'll let you be the judge (but I think you'll find that there isn't really... well, unless you count having wet sleeves at the same time as someone running their fingernails over a chalkboard, then I imagine that could be worse, but imo that's actually two sensations at once and there fore should not count.)

I lost track of time while eating and had to dress in a hurry to get to the carpool- though I suppose I'm grateful that there at least is a carpool as I still don't own a car of my own... and probably never will. Okay, fine, that's just pessimism talking. When I'm rich and famous (and you're reading this) I'll have a car, a washing machine that works perfectly, a mansion, a dining room with table and chairs and a dish washer so my sleeves will stop getting wet.

Work was boring. It was not a game day, so I didn't have much to do. I tried to be all rabid fan-like, but that was difficult to do with no one to be a fan of, so I hung out with the toddler coach all day... who also happened to have nothing to do. Apparently there aren't any toddlers in town at the moment. She seemed pretty cool, she's my first friend in town and she's not super annoying. Her name is Monika Morris, in case you're wondering who befriended me before I was famous.

The first thing I do when I get home is laundry. There is a never ending pile of laundry for no apparent reason. How many clothes do I even have and they have to get washed everyday? I mean if I had the money for lots of clothes I'd have the money to buy a car and a washing machine that actually works! Meh, laundry.

The day was steadily shaping up to become not awesome, so I retired early (ok around 11, so not early at all) to read part of that book that might possibly help me get promoted (seriously, Leighton, you couldn't have been a little more clear about that?) and I'm off to sleep now.

 The slightly more knowledgeable about when to rave and when to riot,

Lynn Winslow