It's so hot. Really it's not even hot, it's just the sun through my windows of my clean, clean apartment. In the horizon of the clear blue. Like a sneaky keyhole to hell.
It's so clean. The cleaning ladies came yesterday and they did a fantastic job. Word from the wise, to the wise, or others: Get a cleaning lady. A filthy apartment is a depressive agent, and one's own apartment is inscrutably difficult to clean... I personally find myself repeatedly and frequently distracted by every object with which I come in contact. Oh-- this old thing! Oh-- I should alphabetize these! Oh-- I haven't read this in months! Do I need this? And cetera. I wouldn't even know where to begin. And so easily remedied this problem. One of the best investments one could make. So. It's sparkling clean. It makes me feel better.
And I didn't even have to store Madeline anywhere... The women that came yesterday were cool and pretty and they did awesome. The ones I got the last time sucked. I'D done better. But yeah.
Sigh. I'm reading my favorite book again. Of course I forgot how good it was... It's over a grand pp long... I'm tired and...
School's almost over... I'm probably gonna do pretty well... It's COMMUNITY COLLEGE and I only took two classes so it's kinda like I better do well... But still, it was hard to manage, caused all this stress and... It's still an accomplishment... Just to get it done with... I kinda doubted I could, and they were valid concerns because it's quite possible I won't finish even these two classes and if I do it'll be by the skin of my teeth, so I'll be satisfied.
I have a cool gig. It's a movie. I'll be playing a stripper. Heh. Small thing, but... still... I know a lot of people wanna do this kind of stuff so it's hard to get these gigs.
I always think of the years starting and ending in June, because that's when school was over... So I'm looking back on this year like, What?
I don't know what to make of it.
I have nothing to say for myself. My coffee in the heat. Not steaming or cooling.