Tuesday, June, 26th 2018
I wake up. And I hate it. My phone alarm has went off and I slowly, silence it. “Fuuuuck.”
“Mom. Are you up?” Keaton, my elegant fur child, has been sleeping with my feet lately and I accidentally nudge him as I stretch. “I am rather hungry and wouldn’t oppose to a feeding about now.” I sleepily save my Snapchat story from last night and roll over to set my alarm. It will sound in about 15 more minutes. Pointless. Keaton rolls over as well…on my leg. “Perhaps I shall await your stirring once more.
Last night Chryssie, Gerald, Yaren and I represented the Duke and Chryssie Show as we attended the farewell performance for 03 Greedo. It was titled, “Farewell to a Real One”. I don’t know anything about him, but he has pleaded guilty to some shit and will be serving 20 years soon. In a tweet he posted he stated, The streets don’t love you back. I feel for him…but, not really. I was irritated that it seems to be a constant, and ineffective strategy to have alllllllll types of opening acts that minimal to NO audience is interested in. By the time its closer to the ACTUAL PERFORMER, nobody is receptive to any fucking body anymore who isn’t the headliner. And then what happens? Depending on who you are and how patient everyone is…your performance gets boo’d. No love. Zero. Last night didn’t help that it was a Monday night. I have work in the morning. We all did. And I made it back and in bed by 3:30am. And here I am now.
A struggle bus. I’m too young to be a struggle bus. I didn’t even want to get up and run my miles. As if it was a habit.
My alarm goes off again right after An’Tammy’s. I just turn and start rubbing her back. She turns off her alarm and rolls over and rests her head on my shoulder, and I wrap my arm around hers. Of course…now I’m too comfy. Trash. Why does this always happen. Right when you need to get up is when you’re the comfiest.
Keaton walks up and repositions himself by my butt. The studio as a whole is trying to wake up…but, unfortunately all of the elements are following my lead. I kiss An’Tammy on her forehead. “Heyyyyyy.”
She lets out a “Hm.”
I kiss her, lightly on the lips, “Good morning.”
She smiles and lets out a happier, “Hm.” She has to work at 9:00am. Its currently 7:52am I have to be at work at 8:30am.
I sit up…and lay back on her. This isn’t gonna work. I probably don’t get up until I have less than an hour to get dressed, walk to my car, and drive down the street to work. I almost pull it off! But I’m 10 minutes late to work. Great.
I’m sitting at the front desk. My morning is kind of slow. Kind of slumped. Yawning and shit. I’ve been drinking overly sweetened coffee for the past few days just to treat myself and motivate me to be readily happy for anyone in and out of the office. Caffeine does nothing for me. Never has. Never will. Which I’m generally happy with because I don’t have a vice like “Can’t start my morning without…” you know what I mean? So, I only indulge when I want dessert from coffee shops…or moments like this.
“Good morning, Tramp!” Chryssie shouts as I schlep by her office.
“Yes. It WILL be a better morning.” I mumble.
“What’s wrong? Are you tired? Did you not get any sleep?” In my mind…we never get sleep when we have a lot of events going on. But Chryssie done switched up! I told her when I got to bed last night. “Oh, really? I slept great actually.” I can tell.
I sit in her visitor chair placed in front of her desk. “I’ll get it together.”
“What wakes up Tramp in the morning?” She asks. “We know coffee doesn’t work…don’t tell me it's getting in your workout in the morning. Are you one of those people?”
“Hell no. I still have to get up to do that shit.” We laugh as I recall graduate school and the hectic schedule I had well over 20 hours a week. Good times. Back to reality. Back to my desk. Before I go, Chryssie gives me insight on a question I sent her way. “What exactly is the purpose of events like last night? What is expected of us when we cover those?’ She explains to me that 1; we’ll be somewhere in less than 5 years and 2; everything she submits and signs us up for is strategic. Carefully placed in order to get us ahead. I trust that due to her experience and PR background. So…I’m feeling a little better.
My lunch rolls around rather quickly today, actually. I do my usual between eating outside, and people watch as I eat, or sit in our conference room, watch Divorce Court, and eat. Lately, because my mom hadn't paid the bill yet on Hulu, it's back to Murder Affairs on Netflix. Eventually, I’ll need to finish ER. I started a few months ago, and haven’t continued since I moved out here to Short Beach. I haven’t purchased WiFi yet for the apartment, and I need to be in the comforts of my home to binge on such a legendary show. Soon enough, my plan will come into effect. I’m currently rubbing my hands together at the thought.
I told my mom via text that I’m going to make a commitment to my health in order to gain more energy for all the shit and hustle I do. I share with her an interview that we had on the show with HipHopGamer in which he shares one of his tips for being on top of your game. One was that he’d never drank and smoke, and he keeps a healthy lifestyle. My mom says, being a mom, “Notice he said he never drank and smoked! You’ll have to cut drinking altogether for an optimal body!’ Point taken…but also, blah, blah, blah! Moderation is key, and I hardly drink now. Don’t take tequila away from me! It’s the only thing that loves me!
I mean –
I love tonic water…with a little lime. You can never go wrong with the tonic on the rocks.
Lunch is almost over. It’s time to utilize the last 3 minutes to sit on the toilet and find a video on PornClub. Another little treat I give to myself to keep me motivated about work during these hard times. But, usually this process takes about 20 minutes. Yesterday I was in the bathroom 25 more minutes than the duration of my break. It just flew by! I found my video, and luckily, nobody questioned me about my whereabouts. Today I didn’t want to be so obvious that I was goofing off or disregarding the time. So…I attempted it…I gave myself 6 extra minutes. No luck. Duh. What the fuck can you accomplish in 3 minutes? And if you’re reading this and you are that successful, please call me at 404.798.1142. If I don’t answer, just leave a text, and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible. I probably forwarded your call because of my limited time in the little girls room.
SO, now I’m sitting at this desk sleepy as fuck. We have a community jar that’s usually filled with Hershey’s chocolate. Well…these animals…or associates, whatever you wish to call them, will destroy the chocolate like it’s the traditional snack, or anytime of the day “pick-me-up” or anything else. This bag was gone in a week. TRAGIC. So, in order not to reward their bad behavior, I’m not going to fill it up until later this week. Or Next week. Who knows…but, I still need a treat. I think I’m just gonna open this other bag. I think I’m just gonna pop one in my mouth. Mm, this is good. Let me pop one more. Maybe one more. Okay, last one before I’m caught. Okay. Now I have that gross aftertaste in the back of my tongue. Just can’t win today.