Tired as I was after work yesterday, I was still mentally singing “Freedom, freedom, freedom,” all night, because my time at BigFinancialCompany has come to an end. Oh, I love the people I worked with, but the job itself became a soulsucking nightmare, and no job is worth the exhaustion and crabbiness that this one caused. With the exception of ComedySportz, I’ve done nothing remotely creative since December.

I got work at nine yesterday, an hour before my scheduled time, and worked pretty much nonstop. If it hadn’t been for A’s amazing cake (thank you, A) and the hot dogs a broker sent, lunch would not have happened. As it was, it was 5:24 before I left, not the five I’d planned.

We zipped over to FedEx on the way to downtown Dallas, and by the time we were out of the parking lot, I’d fallen asleep, waking just before the exit for the West End. Yeah. I was that tired. We’ve been functioning on four or less hours of sleep for almost two months now, and it’s just wrong.

The show was interesting. I don’t think any of us were completely into it, and the audience was small (pre-season football + Labor Day Friday), and yet, it was MY best night ever. I won Doo-Rap, and made it to the final round on Story, and the last time we did either, I was out first. I only did one quick entrance/line/exit in Blind Line, but that was a choice because my teammates E and TC had a great scene going and if I’d really joined it would have made the chemistry all unmixy. I’m still really uncomfortable with Five Things, but thankfully TC set everything up. I owe him big for that. We didn’t finish the last thing, but it didn’t matter, because the goal of not having to do the catch-up game was achieved. (We also played Sing It, which was fun, but not spectacular.)

We didn’t linger for open mic night. I was way too tired to be around people by that point, and hungry for something reasonably approximating actual food – we ended up going to Denny’s so we could eat something without being mauled by small dogs, and I was in bed within an hour of getting home, and still am, in fact, though I’ve been up and down to let the dogs in and out a couple times.

It’s 1:30, and I’m trying to convince the Fuzz-man that getting up would be a wise decision, but he’s in denial.

And the bed is soft. And we don’t really NEED to be up til four…