who’s that man walking down the street with his hands in his pockets and his crocodile feet…….
It’s 2:42 am. I’m flopping around in this bed like a goldfish out of water. I feel like I might never sleep again.
Things I’m thinking while I’m trying not to think anything and go to sleep:
1. I like the concept of people rather than actual people.
2. I didn’t call THE MAN back. I agreed to try to work on one graphic for him, and then he barraged me with a whole collections worth of needed graphics and different jacket styles. During the conversation I reminded him several times that I was just going to work on this one thing, and I wasn’t even sure if I was going to come up with anything or not. My comments were brushed aside with praise, thanks and more wants and needs. I have not returned two emails and a phone call.
3. My stomach hurts.
4. If we make a million dollars this baseball season I want to buy a house on Mullholland Drive and be friends with Quentin Terrantino and Uma Thurman. The theoretical projections say that this is possible (the million dollar part, not the house and the famous friends) but it remains to be seen since we are operating on a negative at the moment. Also, if this does happen, I will not talk about it because you might jump me at the Stardust sports book because you think I have ten thousand dollars in my pocket.
5. We are out of dish washing detergent.
3:09 am………………
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