Full of Sound and Fury ...

My fucking knee. For the last week I've come home and put heat on it. I'm falling apart at the joints. I counted on five more good years. Five! But here I am icing and heating and cracking and elevating. WTF? (What abbreviations say about me: I don't have time to spell things out. I'm important. Didn't you get the memo? LOLOLOLOL)

At five 'til five today a woman - may she rot in her own mucus - paid for one ten dollar purchase in dimes. Hundreds of dimes. And I'll tell you. She's a bitch. Tomorrow I look forward to counting out the dimes one by one and wrapping them in a green roll with other dimes and taking them to the cashier to change into paper money, like the rest of us use. Or even credit. For thirty cents a machine could've changed all that silver into cold, hard cash. But my time isn't worth thirty cents. Please ugly lady, please allow me to fondle each and every hard earned germ stained coin you've kept in your change purse for the last five years instead of tipping waiters and busboys and coffee clerks. Please. Let me serve you. And in case you're wondering, I can think of one time paying in dimes would be okay. She could be such a bad stripper, her clients tip in DIMES. Slide that in your g-strap and smoke it.

Ever notice bitter and bitch start with the same three letters? Coincidence?

To stoke the furies I'm listening to angry female music.

However! One exciting thing to happen tonight: my Final Draft Upgrade to version 7 arrived in the mail today! And I assigned Stephen Hawking voices to each of my characters and made the play read to me! Awesome. Wild. Exciting.

And in my fervor to consume, I think I swallowed some of the gold foil on the edge of my tasty beverage. For shame.