effing sad

How effin sad is this?

My friend just called me and told me she's made it through another cut of her reality show audition. Of course, I'm stoked for her. I'm also jealous as the fuck. Seriously. She called me while I was in the middle of writing my own "Inside the Actors Studio" (I'm not an actor, so I was pretending I was part of a special writer's series. Hey, it's MY fantasy!). I want to cry and I would, except all my extra fluid is currently being pooled into a mini-pad between my huge thighs. So now I'm listening to Casting Crowns, desperately trying to "praise Him in the storm". On the one hand, this is a prime opportunity to trust God in the middle of emotional pain. But on the other, petty, more tempermental hand, I need to ask Him the question that He has to be tired of hearing: Why not me? Why not my dreams? Ha. I know why not. Because I haven't done anything to deserve them. I'm rude and nasty all the time. I don't give a shit about anybody but myself and sometimes I pee in the shower. You have no idea how hard I'm trying not to write the words: Kay, you suck as a human being.

I don't want to get up in the morning. Not for all the toast in China.

Okay- so I've had a good cry and now I'm just numb. My entire mind, body and soul are exhausted. My friend wants me to help her write some kind of script or something. I don't mind because she's cool peoples and and she would do the same for me, but again it's more pro-bono work (sidebar: if I am pro-bono, does that mean I'm anti-Cher?). I am, however, mildly comforted by the fact that I'm actually writing more than my WGA brethren and sistren are right now. I'm gonna write her a draft script and send it to her tonight.

I really, really don't want to wake up in the morning.