I switched out of my Sunday morning shift at work, and good thing too because after a 10pm show goes that well I need no convincing to stay for the Midnight Show.
Strangers on the Street: That was great! Weee!
Me: Hey thanks!
Strangers on the Street: We were all thinking of staying for the midnight show!
Me: Ha! Race you down there!
Because of Daylight Savings it was 2am by the time I left.
I feel absolutely wonderful when I'm on stage and on a roll, but when I realize that I've destroyed two Red Bulls and could still be ready for bed at any given moment it's time to call it a night. I ducked out just as the dance party was starting. I drove home, congratulating myself on the foresight to bring a car. I felt bold enough to try a shortcut. Then I got severely lost in Roxbury. Now it's almost 3:30 in the morning and I usually get up for work at 5:30am.
So not having to go into work until later in the day is truly good news. Seriously, thank you to the nurse who took those eight hours. You know who you are. And you are wonderful.
More about my weekend, methadone, and Lent coming soon.
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