Regarding last night’s entry about Superman and getting some gubment cheese, I wanted to clarify what’s what. Yes, Superman is fine. No, I’m not getting food stamps or going on the dole. Or going on Bob Dole. By “gubment cheese,” I was referring to the arts grant I’m applying for. By the way, it’s taken an entire bottle of wine, but I just submitted the application part of the process. Hell yeah, mofo. I have to hand-deliver a bunch of supporting documents by Friday, but that’s all fine. I normally wouldn’t have waited until the last minute (she said, in self denial), but I just found out about this grant opportunity yesterday afternoon.
I’m assuming my current job as the fucking grant writer for the largest regional theatre in the south means my application will be badass, but I don’t want to jinx it, you know?
This is why I don’t drink early in the week. My typing sucks. I hate having to backspace. I do crosswords in pen for crying out loud. Or for sobbing quietly in the corner. Six of one.