My Twenty-Something Quasi-Soap

I seem to have this habit now of posting on Sunday nights. Probably because it's something that allows me to prolong the arrival of the Day After Sunday (even though it's technically already here). I am very tired. April has not been a good month to me. Between the rain, a freak snowstorm in the middle of the day, being stuck at work all by myself for a week, half of the Shoestring kids coming down with some type of ailment at various times right up to the last rehearsal, my director coming down with bronchitis, the very real fact that my currently sweet temp gig is definitely ending in two weeks, my own apartment feeling like an episode of "The Real World," blowing 25 bucks on Mega Millions tickets and not getting a piece of the quarter billion dollar jackpot, the "check engine" light glaring at me every time I'm in my car, my allergies kicking my ass during the day, my asthma waking me up in the middle of the night, and still checking my e-mail every ...

I want to go to sleep so I can forget everything and live in a world that I won't remember. But sleep brings me to tomorrow that much faster, so I have to deal with it all. It's not fair. Tonight was like...watching tv with rabbit ears, or listening to a radio station as you're leaving the reaches of its airwaves. You can see the picture or hear the song, but the static keeps you from connecting with it. I should have known better. I should have known that it was all too good to be true. I mean, everything was great, I was so happy, everyone was happy for me, and then I get static. Stupid Japan. There I sat, thinking I had the power to change the course of someone's life, thinking that I just might be important enough to make a person change his mind, praying that something as daunting as some major exam that's 6 months away would make someone stay. But I'm not that important. And I'm stupid to think I'd be that important. Not when there are so many oth...