I feel like a bowl of scrambled eggs this week. Just regular stress, the kind of stuff we all have to deal with. But sometimes things crunch together at the same time, and my days start feeling like a repugnant mix of unpaid bills and deadlines I won't meet and too many drinks and my acting teacher calling me sterile and casual and how is summer over already and dishes in the sink.
But if you notice, that bowl of scrambled eggs has little sprigs of something lovely and green in it. And I think there's some truffle salt in there. So maybe things might be a little mushy-minded right now, but there is some good stuff in there, too. It's a nice kind of mush. My acting class partners in crime and I have four books coming in the mail and I start a new writing class in a few weeks and my plants are still kicking and Habana Outpost's frozen mojitos are around until October.
Okay. Maybe not so bad.
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