Day three of bodyaches and bad sleep. Fuck me raw. Microplane zester, do your thing. It's gonna be a nyquill night tonight.

I had a dream last night, and couldn't stop thinking about outlining my friends entire reality show. the interviews that would be necessary, the cast of characters, the situations, etc. Now the one question I have is why cant i be productive about my own projects when i'm tired and sick?

So my friend was going to do some freelance work for this semi-posh club in my building and she showed up, they weren't prepared and then after barely doing any work, she was sent away because the crazy boss person wanted something done a specific way that they hadn't told anyone about. are you fucked? I cannot wait to see how this supposed club turns out. I think I might invest in a catapult to throw buckets of poop and herring up there when i'm bored. they also are responsible for the occasional jackhammering at 6 pm. jesus, please? I want jackhammering at 6 pm, but it usually involves a couple supermodels, a big rotating bed and me covered in babyoil.

at least my sense of humor isn't gone despite me feeling like shit. where's my cute intern friend? i feel lonelys.