The Last 3 Days

I had a nice evening planned last Friday.  One where I’d be able to unite one friend group with another, forming a new bridge of connections and loveliness.  But then Adonis called in sick and I had to take his clients.  Then he called out yesterday, forcing me to contend with 8 clients all booked with me.  And today, Sunday, I massaged for 3.5 hours and then dried sheets until 11 at night and then brought them back to work so I don’t have to do it tomorrow morning.  Why?  The damn dryer broke.

I didn’t actually massage all 8 people.  Leah, one of my employee’s, told me she’d take my last two.  I love Leah but I don’t want to get into how much I love Leah.  Just know that I do.  I fucking love Leah.

I’m so tired.  I just finished off a bottle of sake that I found in the fridge from weeks ago when I went to Sushi House with my cousin.  And I taken one melatonin and half of a Kirkland sleeping pill – the smallest (and cheapest) little crumb of a pill – it knocks me out every time.  How the hell does a pill do that?  It’s about the size of my pupil – smaller than the mole on my clients shaved head.

I massaged a guy last Saturday with the last name Gotta.  He had a mole on his shaved head and all I thought about as I massaged him was, “How does he not slice that sucker off when he shaves his head?  Does he have to go around it each time?  Has he ever nicked it and had it bleed everywhere?  Gotta lance that buddy.”

When it was time for  him to flip over, I wanted so badly to say, “Gotta flip over now.”

I have tomorrow off but it’s not exactly a day off.  Not when there are sheets that need drying.

I finally opened up a business bank account for my new place, Sound Alchemy Massage.  The woman who helped set it up, set up my last business account too.  She remembered me even though it’s been over 2 years.

I put $2000 in my new bank account.

Now is the time to start looking for an office but I can’t with the dryer being broke and all.

This post sucks, I’m going to bed.

Leave a comment

Filed under journal, work

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s