sixseventyfive sixseventyfive. there are numbers running through my head. this is more money than i've had to date. more money than i spent? oh god no. not counting the first two jobs i had, that's three, count them THREE jobs [and a half, if you count a good half of the employment of tiffanys]. with not a damn thing to show. and now. i have a guitar. tomorrow i will buy a car [it was supposed to be a civic but now appears to be a saturn something or other. i'm not picky but i was told a list of things to buy and things not to buy and i just want to make sure i'm not buying a hunk of death metal or a lazy autombile].

here are my secret plans:

go to the show tonight. buy a car tomorrow morning. this enables me to be at make-up auditions at 7pm (also because felice straight out asked me if she could work for me tomorrow because she is in need of the money). pass through auditions and move on to rehearsal. be forced to find a new job with weekends off. new car, new motivation, new job. and then. and then and then and then.

tomorrow off work, friday off work. time to clean and look for said job.

there's a meeting at the restaurant on sunday. at three thirty. ooh. how exciting.

and away to stages i go.