The drainage continues. Hence, the nausea continues as well.

Of course, the nausea could be helped along a bit by this nasty case of nerves that’s been hanging with me since … well, Dec. 22nd.

The “Real” Diary Critic reviewed my site yesterday. I got a kick out of that. She’s right, though. *sigh*   It’s well past time for a revamp.

Sadly, I’m a stock broker. I’m not a graphic designer. I have a difficult time even imagining a new layout for this site. It’s my hobby - it’s my pet. But a new look? It frustrates me before I even begin.

I had a client come in today. He just wandered in, cell phone in hand, and sat down to shoot the shit. It’s a good thing he’s quite the hottie, or he’d have been asked to state his business clearly and succinctly and then asked to leave pretty quickly. My productivity is down to next to nothing lately. (That’s what happens when you get very little sleep.)

This client is a handsome lad, around 30, California-blonde streaks and a surfer’s body. He also itches to spend money in the Market. Bless his heart. He’s a gambler.

When he wanders in, though, I know I’ve lost a good 30 minutes. I’ll signal to Maria and she’ll call me on the other line just to get him out of there. Part of me says it’s a shame time is money, because he’s fun to chat with. But… Must either get money from him, or get him out.

Audrey’s supposition is that he “likes” me. I think he just gets his hair cut at the barber next door too damned often.

Another client of mine told me today that they’re “old and goofy.” He says, “There’s no one home upstairs, but we have a good time.” I love my retired clients.

Retired prospects are another matter entirely.

Oh, alright, alright. I’ll write about my dream. It’s been on my brain all day, and it was so bizarre.

I won a contest on Mtv2, apparently. It was part Jackass and part Real World. I had to show up to some campground/park-thing and get undressed and wait for Brandon Boyd (of Incubus) to show up so I could sleep with him. Unfortunately we’d have to do it in front of an audience. And the cameras.

So, I get to my little trailer thing in the park, and start to get undressed. As I do this, I realize the camera crew is going to be there the whole time, and this is making me very uncomfortable. So we wait, and wait, and Brandon never shows up. I throw on a robe and hike back to the main building, where some assistant grabs me and explains that instead of Brandon, it’s going to be a 10-year-old boy. I’m like, NO WAY!

I head back up to the cabin-thingy and hear a voice behind me, and it’s Brandon. He made it, but he doesn’t really want to go through with it, and neither do I, so we kinda mess around a little bit to partially fulfill our “contract” (which wasn’t a huge problem for me) and then decide to get something to eat. I think. Or maybe we were on a plane…? Anyway, we ran into Eddie Vedder, and jammed with him for a while. Then I woke up.

Well. Exhibitionism, an audience for sex, uncomfortable being naked, necking with Brandon Boyd and playing music with Eddie Vedder. A lot could be gleaned regarding my subconscious if I weren’t too tired to care!

Holding my breath again,

michelle