Today was a wrap day for the cellphone shoot.
Ned and I painted the stage from green to white.
I returned a shopping cart full of clothes to Target.
The holidays reared its ugly, infected scrotus.
Everything was impatient and shitty.
Nurse Novels had band practice.
It was joyless.
I worked the bar.
It was dead.
I kept falling asleep at the door.
While the regulars hung out after hours I slept in a booth.
"Tony, go home!" Kim called.