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All content copyright 2010 by Chelsea Biondolillo. Seriously.

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

365 days of being a writer: day 99

Pretend that this post starts out with a funny "99 bottles of beer on the wall" tie-in.

I tried to enjoy a great show tonight and was instead a grouchy puss-baby the whole time. There was just too much humanity for me to deal, especially after a day of being crowded and leaned into and over and the whole range of personalities of our generally over-privileged, under-mannered clientele. Most of the shoppers today were pleasant, but a strained pleasant. Like, if this goes without a hitch, I won't totally lose my shit. Which is the kind of person I turned into, on entering the sold out show. The elbows, the loud awful laughy girls. The opening band taking way too long to get to each song. And above all, the press of people. Really, what's surprising is that anyone wants to hang out with me at all (and trust me, I am grateful for the guy that does).

Then, like a sign from Archie Bunker's ghost, this article is on my yahoo home page when stagger home ashamed of my attitude: Jobs for People Who Hate People. Number three? Writer. What a relief.

My brain is too fried from grocery madness to get any writing done these last few crazy days. Instead, I worked this morning on my manuscript for Texas Tech. All I have left to assemble for them is my CV. Anyone have a good template?

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