Last night I dreamt that I had to go to jail for 8 days for assault. My crime had something to do with an ex-boyfriend, but I'm sure he deserved it. Anyway, I'm thinking that this dream is a result of my sleeping on the most uncomfortable sleeping surface known to man...the futon. I have had it with the stupid thing. The first time I slept on it I felt like I was in a prison bed (not that I would know), but my friend Jesse, a former resident of the County's finest rehabilitation center, believes that my futon cannot be "that bad." Little does he know that every morning I wake up feeling like I've been beaten with a crow bar, and my neck does not want to turn in either direction. I am hardly a spoiled little "Princess and the Pea" type girl. I can usually sleep anywhere, but this futon is destroying me. If I had a big, soft, cushy bed with a down comforter right now...I could die a happy person...

Speaking of death, I have to return to Hell's Kitchen this evening to whore my personality for tips. Every time I walk into that place a small piece of my soul dies...