Scary shit, man - 09.04.02 - 11:35 pm

Here are some things that scared me tonight:

-I somehow managed to gouge a chunk out of my palm and only noticed when I was shelving and saw a smear of blood on the spine of the book. I have no idea how long I was bleeding before I realized it. On a happy note, the 600s now bear my mark. Of PAIN.

-Boys my age don't go to libraries. Don't you argue with me cuz I know it's true. They don't go to my library and that is what matters. Because it is all about me and my hormones.

-The only time I am ever hit on is by men old enough to be my father. And I'm not counting technically old enough, either. Like, my actual father's age. I have discussed this before, but I will say it again for emphasis: I LOOK 16. That is gross.

-Ducklings. Only 4 are currently contained and the other two have total control over the porch. It's like a cuter and feathery-er version of a coup de tat. Anyway, I'm just sitting here, writing my script when QUACK. Yes, QUACK. Just once. Very loud. Looked down, saw a lone duckling standing there and just staring at me. He then walked back on the porch. I swear the door was closed, too. Freaky bastards.

-Germs. With the gaping wound on my hand, I thought about germs a lot more tonight. What sucks even more is a bandaid would not stay on. No matter how much scotch tape I used to secure it. People are dirty and disgusting creatures with all kinds of crazy microscopic organisms just waiting to infect someone else. I now have several diseases and will die by sunrise. I know it.

-The theatre dude likes my idea. Oh, wait. That's not scary. That's good. I told him to give me the deadline of October 5th for the first draft. He obliged and I am a masochist. Now I have a project. Woo.

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