Back to the real world, or so it is as I perceive it . . . .

Okay, so my younger (but not youngest) sister Laura and her husband Matthew (Buoy) came up for the weekend to begin their spring break and so that Buoy and I could work on our screenplays. They got here Friday evening, and Kenn was at work. I got the house clean, we ordered pizza and got very little work done.

I went to work on Saturday morning and opened. I was really supposed to be a day shift only-- and first-out, at that. I had been placed on the dining room assignments for all day. So I spent from 9:00am to 11:00pm at work. My husband, Kenn, entertained Laura and Buoy all day. When I came home, there was Bucca di Beppo seafood linguini and exhaustion. They watched a film-- I fell asleep.

Let me clarify for those who do not know me well. I don't get enough sleep. I have gone three days entirely without slumber on many occasions, and I only get the recommended 8-9 hours of the stuff on the rare occasions when I cannot afford to sleep that much.

I had overtime for the last four hours of that shift, and had to go back to work early the next morning. This meant leaving behind my guests and our film projects.

I fell asleep with my makeup on. I do NOT do that. When I awoke the next morning, I was crying. For those of you who know me (Mom)-- this is an indication that I am exhorbitantly fatigued and ill-fed. And what was cued up on my cd player in my car-- nothing else but The Beatles' _I'm So Tired_.

When I looked at the dining room assignments about the time that I should have been let go that afternoon, I saw my name listed again in the same section. Beware the wrath of Me. There was no way on earth that I was remaining at work for another shift that day.

It was open season, and I was hunting managers. Luckily did not find any such game before the other person who has the same name as I have walked in. It was her section in the evening. Whoever had put together the dining room assignments had left off the last initial. The anger turned into nearly-hysterical laughter, during the course of which I closed myself off in the employee's ladies' room.

I quickly did my sidework, rolled my silver and attempted to get the heck out of dodge.

Except that all managers were too busy with other important work and invitees (the resturant calls them guests, but I have a law school education that tells me to call them invitees)to cash me out.

I ran to my car, turned on my Beatles and cued up _The Golden Slumbers Medley_. Upon realizing that this was a poor choice considering my sleep-deprived state, I cued up the Beatles' medley that contains the current state of my life.

"Out of college, money spent
See no future, pay no rent.
All the money's gone, nowhere to go. . .
But oh, that magic feeling-- nowhere to go."

I had ideas for the movies running relentlessly through my head. I rushed home with the intention of getting sooooo much work done-- I had my second wind. I found the patio door left slightly open and-- the air mattress was put away. My company had left. They had gone home as planned to finish their spring break.

All wind of any kind left me. I was dizzy, I was hungry, and I felt sick. I was hungry, and I realized that there had been no rush, no reason for my anger or laughter. I had nowhere to go and had not even realized it. Starkey, McCartney, Lennon and Harrison had predicted it.

So I drew a tub, got in, fell asleep, and awoke to overhear my mother's voice on the answering machine-- she bought a new car-- one that I would rate as perfect.

Kenn was hungry. I was so hungry that I was past it. We went to the grocery store. He ate. I wrote and worked on background for one of the films. I went to bed too late, got up too early and was late to work this morning. Ugh! traffic.

It looks as if I will have overtime again this week. But I have no visiting family this week, and no long-planned projects going. And it is St. Patrick's Day on Wednesday, (or is it Thurday?), so I should make really good money. (But overtime is dicouraged.)

But in the meantime I have alienated family, overrun my emotional capacity, determined to switch up the cds in my car, and caused a major acne breakout.

All because somebody quit without notice and the restaurant was short-staffed. All because I need this job too much to walk out when I get slightly tread-upon. All because I walked away from there with a pocketful of money and thought I could burn the candle at both ends.

I guess I'm not 18 anymore. I can't work and write and read and study and watch movies and work and hang out and work and write and stuff anymore without sleep. I'm not even 25 anymore.

I think it is a good time to put Elvis Costello, The Cure, Son Volt, DCTalk, Peter Gabriel and Jars of Clay in the car. Or just switch to Rubber Soul, Let it Be, Wings, Plastic Ono Band, Julian Lennon and Mr. Mister--or Talking Heads. Anything that does not discuss SLEEP. It seems Alice Cooper's Greatest Hits has a scratch. (I have birthday coming up, Mom.)

All that to say this: I'm out of steam and I think I have lost sight of my still point. I say that because it is not a turning world. The world is just fine-- I am spinning out of control.

And I can't sleep.