Petting the Sweaty Things

  Alright, this is just getting out of hand. Yes, THIS. And that. And that thing over there, I don't even know what that is, but I don't like the cut of its jib.

  THE TEMPERATURE OUTSIDE: Day after day. Lows into the 12's range. Highs in the low 30's. I don't care for that one bit. Cold wind driving the chill into the "Aw, hell no" spectrum. Tonight, I had to walk many blocks to Studio in this weather. I made the mistake of licking my lips. They froze and broke off.

  MY RIGHT FOOT: Always with this guy. I walked around too long in dress shoes the other night, and it feels like all the tissue on the ball of my foot is gone. Pretty sure I'm hearing bone scraping on concrete when I walk now. I needs me some mf'n gel insoles or something.

  TONIGHT'S HORRID PERFORMANCE: Hands down the worst one we've done. I'm sorry, Kat, and I know we're married and that I love you very much, but we stunk the joint up tonight, the both of us. Next rehearsal, we need to really get on this thing. There are only two weeks left. Let's own it. In the words of our fearless instructor tonight, "Take the fucking stage!"

  THIS RIDICULOUS PACKAGING:

  Thanks just all to pieces, DAYRUNNER. I order a four dollar refill for my 2010 daily calendar and ya charge me $5.60 in shipping. Now I know why. Because the thing that could have been sent in an envelope was sent instead in a huge box with bubble insulation. Guys, it's 3x5 cards. It doesn't need a box that would hold a set of encyclopedias. You are single handedly destroying the environment, DAYRUNNER. I'm telling the polar bears where to find you.

  I'M DAMNED TIRED: These days are killing me. Got some food in me finally, but I'm just so wasted. I need to take some of my sleep medicine:

and then climb into bed. At least I won't be risking frostbite in there, I'll be off my bloody stump-foot, I won't be performing anything for anybody (ahem), and everything is environmentally friendly.