So it's official. I didn't get the position. I'm okay with it and I'm not. The trap is in letting your ego convince you that you deserve the position more than anybody else. Certainly not some punk kid. Gotta quiet those thoughts down though. Focus on the good. Yesterday Christian bailed on our breakfast date. The checkout lady at Whole Foods and Robert at the Chemist Shop must have caught the memo and felt sorry for me because they didn't charge me for the sprouted wheat hot dog buns and Gold Bond medicated powder, respectively. I still continue to do well at work, promotion notwithstanding. Great interactions with customers, consistent attachment rates. I like what I do. I need to stop letting these motherfuckers lull me into comparing myself to other people. Hell yeah, I'm better, but fuck it. At the end of the day I ain't got it and the bottom line is I gotta GET it, not complain about someone getting something over me. Gotta shave my head. Jovanni came by last night to trade in his case and invited me to come through the following morning and work out with him. The interaction satisfied my need for company and conversation. I even got a free protein shake out of it. Was supposed to meet with Jeff for the beach but it was his turn to be manic, I guess. I have my first rehearsal tonight which I'm unprepared for so I gotta print out the lyrics and download the songs. Then sleep. Maybe Jeff will agree to meet then. I dunno. Jovanni invited me to go to chill with him while he bartends at P3LIGRO at Element. Maybe I'll take Troy and Jason with me. Yeah that's the plan. 6:20pm En route to Fort Green, listening to the disco playlist i was supposed to have been listening to and memorizing "my" songs. I woke up feeling drained. Barely two hours of rest and I am freaking out about the rash spreading. My dumb ass don't know how to stop scratching, much less jerk off. What I really want to do is rest/sleep some more, do my laundry, and administer my past due shots. I don't know how much the changes in my body's chemistry is fucking shit up. Instead I downed an energy shot and threw on some shorts and a t-shirt. Hopefully they'll look at me and agree that I look like shit and I'll get a free pass to not have my shit together. Maybe I can pull a few strings so that I'm off Sunday, but realistically that won't happen. Especially now that I have officially made friends with Jovanni and agreed to keep him company while he works Saturday night. Like THAT's such a strain, but in light of my current health issues, yeah, it really is. I ran out of underwear coz i'm way past due on laundry. It was either the gauze hospital underwear I kept for sentimental value from that one time I got a biopsy done in 2008 just before I started working at Apple, or my Calvin Klein jock strap. Or commando (Aww, hell to the naw!). Either way i'm still feeling kinda exposed. I just need to suck it up and get some muthafuckin underwear. CHEAP ones, ya vain bastard! No one need see them coz you've effectively been slapped with a chastity belt by God. I tried sleeping sans pharmaceuticals and slept restlessly, having crazy kinky dreams incorporating random people. Like Tim Wright from the Genius Bar, of all people!!! Anyway finally around 5am I gave in and got up doing nothing in particular, downing my Xanax and ambien by 9:30. Dumbass George couldn't figure the gate out so he didn't come in, supposedly. Blah. Whatever. I am so hatin' on people flaking out on me. Aargh. Woke up around 8pm. Too late for much of anything, and I was committed to showin love to Ariel's send off. I just found it incredibly tacky for Tarynn to turn it into a big fucking apple event like it was really that serious. I want to slap her sometimes. The word obnoxious comes to mind. But I guess she's trying to be inclusive as befits the Apple way. So I am on the F train on my way to Le Lupanar, camera in tow. Party should be in full swing by now so I'll have some propranolol to control the shakes and "perform" on a whole different level altogether. Stay for a half hour and snap up as much footage as possible. Then bounce out to wherever Erskine is. I seriously need to wash my clothes though. Down to a jock strap for cryin out loud!!!! Must it always take THAT for me to come to my senses? Getting sleepy. I pulled together some jeans, Richie's Marc Jacobs tee, and my cap. Simple works but I was just grateful to have THAT. Over the JOCK STRAP. Sheesh. The F Word moved to Splash. That means my card will get me entry.