Why, do I look tired?

I am foolish. I was up until almost 5:00 am last night, stupidly allowing myself only about 2 1/2 hours' sleep. So today I find myself a feeble-minded dullard, in an exhausted stupor since I got home from school. Classes went swell; I played the kiddie-tune in piano well and was complimented by the teacher on my properly curved fingers. I practiced my double bass a bunch & my wrist hurts 6 ways from sunday now. This is from the air-conditioner mishap, not the tendonitis.

It looks like the band may have a paying gig out in Auburn in late November, which is good. It's being put together by a total stoner in another local band, which is not-so-good. They're nice guys, but a bunch of tools & a mediocre group on a good day. I'm going to stay behind the scenes of the stoner & try to prod his wasted ass in the right direction so he doesn't fuck everything up & get us black-balled from the club. I suspect he's already suggested or out-right made at least a vague guarantee of a draw, which is utterly retarded, unless you're a proven regional group. We're not. They're not. The other band of tools playing the gig isn't either. Once again, if I don't do it myself, it won't be done right. I'm surrounded by idiots. Trying to promote this one in the Syracuse/Auburn area should be a pant-load of fun too. I just can't wait.

Tonight I must: go whistle-dick around with Kirk's girlfriend's newly-inherited Mac, as she is not too computer-savvy; rip the bridge-cable-like D'Addario strings off my beater Jazz Bass & put back on the 1.5 year-old Thomastiks; try to salvage the Revere-Ware pot I scorched pasta to by forgetting to turn the burner off last night; practice more bass tonight. Whee. And I'm still waiting for god-damned Hyatt to call me & give me the job I justly deserve for being over-qualified. Woe be to they who deny me my job!

With riveting days like this, who needs action & adventure?