I have a headache.
This is because I had turkey chili for lunch, a few pieces of chocolate, a bowl of cheetos (crunchy, not puffed) and 2 diet cokes. It never seems that gross when you have each thing one at a time, but when you look at it all at once, written down, you get why people say keep a food journal. I mean, Oprah's friend - that lady - she keeps one, so there must be something to it. God help me if I actually try to get one other thing in my life under control. It's enough for me to look at the laundry that sits in the basket day and day out in a corner of my bedroom, taunting me. I think I can say that the laundry may be in fact bullying me. It's incessant, and keeps coming back for more, demanding my time and attention.
Newsflash:
One of the execs here just brought over an actor to meet me. The exec in question is from one of the islands of Massachusetts, my homeland. Apparently an actor she was meeting with today is also from Critical Mass, from a town 2 seconds from my own hometown. She brought him over to meet me so we could discuss Masshole matters. He's on a show that's getting a lot of attention, most of which unfortuneately focuses on its imminent demise. It came out in coversation we both worked at the South Shore Music Circus, a local theater in the round for luminaries such as Kenny Rogers and Bill Cosby. Except I was there some years before he was. And that's when it hit me - people about eight years younger than me are on major network shows making a lot of money. And I am old. He was super nice though.
I am old.