It's 2 in the morning, and I can't sleep. So I'm starting a blog. What? It's as good a reason as any. From what I've seen, some kind of witty title is obligatory for blogs. Instead, I’m using "Peace of Cake." It doesn't mean anything, except I like the sound of it. And I find cake peaceful.
I'm so, so tired, but I can't make myself go to sleep. Current status: unemployed, panicked about money and career. I'm going a little stir-crazy in my apartment. I'm spending my time looking for work on-line, dealing with unemployment and student loan deferment, and generally trying to ignore the pile of bills screaming at me. I debated selling myself on eBay, but I’m not sure what category to list myself under (I'd like to think of myself as a "collectable," but with my level of desperation I’d probably fit better under "specialty services").
I went back to the gym today, first time in three and a half months. Not out of laziness (although I am absurdly lazy), I've been on tour. Back-up dancer for 50 Cent. (Wait, no - stage manager for "Charlotte’s Web." But wouldn’t that be awesome?) I was on the...whatever it's called, the thing that's halfway between a treadmill and step machine, listening to 80's pop on my iPod, and I think I was dancing. I wasn't intending to, but when I get really into music I tend to forget where I am and start lip-synching and moving to the beat. I kept almost falling off the elliptical thing and drawing stares from the people around me. I suppose the cardio room is a better place to do that than the weight room – it's slightly less butch. (Well, it is.) I do it on the subway all. the. time. It's a good way to get a seat to yourself – stare at the floor, sway slightly back and forth, and mutter "I think we’re alone now."
