mondays are rarely good to me, but then, they're not obligated to be. it would just be nice, once in awhile, to wake up and not dread the day. to wake up without knots in the stomach, without having to swallow hard and without feeling like a big cry-baby.

****

depressives can fool people like nobody's business, you know that? they can put the fake on and get through a day, and if after that day you were to tell them, look! she was depressed while y'all were cracking up about *insert hysterically funny event here* the other person would say, nooooooo! no way!

yeah, way.

****

fake it 'til you make it.

****

i had the worst dream in hotel history. i dreamt there were a bunch of people in the pool area (why i was working at night, i do not know, it's been forbidden) and they were drinking and smoking in there with the lights out. the front desk was crowded with people wanting to check in, but i had to get rid of those people in the pool area.

so i stomped in there, turned on the lights, and told everyone they had to get out. of course, being the drunk, rowdy assholes they were, they protested mightily and i told them they had two minutes to get out or i was calling the cops.

i went back to the front desk, through this crowd of people (who were naturally getting a little irritated at having to wait) and checked a person in and made a reservation for The Rock (yes, Dwayne the Rock) over the phone. he was very pleasant.

the lights in the pool room went dark again, and now i'm really pissed off. back in i went, turned on the lights, yelled at the people, and got some of them out. the band by the hot tub wasn't budging. i asked their room number and they laughed at me and said if i didn't have their room number or their name, they weren't worried about getting kicked out. now i'm worried and frustrated because i'm afraid they're right, but they aren't.

back to the front desk through the (bigger) crowd of people, and one guy yells out, "What about my dinner?" and i said "I'm not responsible for your freaking dinner!"

once at the desk, in walks The Rock, all dressed up in a black shirt and tie (omg, he looked delicious) and i said, "Can you help me here?" and he said, no, i'm sorry i can't, and he left. (fucker.)

i called the cops and talked to a woman with blond hair (how i knew she was blond, i don't know, it's a dream) and she was going to dispatch help. she wanted to chat, i'm up to my armpits in pissed off people.

in the meantime, i'm arguing with a bunch of people in front of the elevator, where they are smoking and partying to beat the band. no one even offered to share the bong.

then i woke up.

****

on the surface, this looks like a job anxiety dream (oh, ya think?) but of course, i start digging in the layers. i got past the first layer and said fuck this.

****

i slept most of the day away yesterday, and at 5:30 realized i hadn't eaten anything and that's probably why i felt so poopy. i ate and went to bed at eight. slept till this morning. made note of the fact going that long without eating is not good, so i ate lunch and dinner today. i still feel shaky, the tachycardia thing has been acting up, and my nerves are all jumpy jumpy. not a happy day at the ranchero hotelo, and i've about had it with people. i hate the phone and the rude people on it, i'm sick of getting hung up on and treated like some kind of subhuman. i'm sick of people thinking they can stick it up my ass without proper lubrication. are "please" and "thank you" so expensive anymore? i have felt totally disrespected all day.

and The Rock can bite me.




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