I return from work. Maybe too happy from the frivolity of my post-blogs earlier in the day. It's late. I stayed back in a vain attempt to find email addresses of Hollywood Agents to send my script: Ralph Five Bellies. With everything else falling down around me (money, working visa, relationship, living arrangements) I have to begin to find new opportunities for myself. They will not come to me. Anyway, it's late - but the Lady's not home. I tidy up a little; fold clothes in a poor imitation of the Benetton Store training the Lady tried to instill in me. I think of home and I think of my parents. I switch on the PC and decide to send some pictures home; quickly. I burn a disk but I need to check all the photos are appropriate. The Lady enters. What am I doing sending a picture of her family to my folks? Why haven't I cleaned the bathroom? Look at this mess.
She gets into bed and watches a bad Net Flix choice: Freaky Friday. I finish up and get into bed too. She ignores me so I watch Jamie Lee Curtis swap bodies with her daughter. I think about that scene in Trading Places when Dan Ackroyd first comes back to her apartment. The Lady is already asleep and I have watched too much to turn the film off now. Pure punishment.
Posted by Guy Brighton on March 16, 2004 at 11:11 PM
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