And then they all shut the fuck up.

Jesus fuckin Christ, I am exhausted.

Mpnday was so busy. I was at the gallery most of the day. I was so nervous to go back there because this weekend I made a fool of myself and I will tell you how.
I was helping serve food and drinks at a gala to raise money for the art center. I took a shower, I shaved things that haven't been shaved in a while, I put on make-up, a slick outfit, and toped it off with a very nice scarf. I looked good. They told me to be there at 5, and I got there RIGHT ON TIME, but everything was already set up. The whole thang didn't start till 6:30 so I stood around for an hour and a half doing NOTHING. Well not doing nothing, I was also walking around awkwardly looking and feeling like a jack-ass. 6:30 finally came and I was given a tray full of glasses of sparking white wine and told to give them to guests. "Be Pushy" they said. So I was excited to finally have a job to do and I was thinking "hell yeah, everyone here is gonna love me. I get to be the one giving them free alcohol." Well within 10 minutes of this great job, I dropped that tray like it was my only purpose, broke the beauitful glasses, and spilled the wine all over the floor. Oh, and did I mention also all over myself. I was quickly demoted to "coat girl" and spent the majority of the night with wet tittles, wet stomach, wet thighs, and a wet crotch. No one cares who you are when you take coats, and they completely forget about you by the time they meet up with the person giving out the free booze.

Now its today. Wednesday at the gallery, yuck. Today my job was hauling all the pedestals, one by one, to the attic. Three floors and a small winding stairway....15 times.I was sweaty and my legs felt like jello, Being out of shape is so cool. All the popular people are doing it. After I was done with that I got to sweep all the floors in the buildings, the 7 galleries. Then I cleaned the art studio....and swept more floors. The day was like an endless messy hallway. I just kept sweeping and getting more sweaty by the minute. And the I actually died for a second.
While I was driving home, I saw Mr. Biggie Smalls. Well at least I think I saw him. And with that small glimpse into the past, I threw up in my mouth. So by the time I got home from the gallery, I was exhausted, smelling like old dried sweat, and there was throw up on my shirt that sneaked out during my moment of the ultimate unsexy Angie.

I think I'm done for the day. Yes I'm spent.