Last night I dreamed I was playing Scrabble with the cast of Seinfeld, that I was shopping for Chinese dolls, that I was locked in a showroom with vacuum salesmen. Normally I would've woken up thinking What the hell? but this morning it seemed just right, exactly perfect, and not so strange at all.
The last week of my life has been bizarre. I have been asked to give lap dances. I have served heaps of fish frys. I have walked over the Rainbow Bridge into Canada. I have seen a stripper launch her naked body onto a pole and pretend-whisper to one of her stripper friends who is sitting in front of the stage, I am so wasted right now! I have seen a cat break its way out of a cat trap outside a bar at 1:00 AM. I have had flowers left on my car while I was at work.
There have been moments over the last few days where I've felt very much like this is a joke, that someone must be taping this, maybe making a Lifetime movie of my life, or at least scouting material for a campy new musical, something that will be all pink and glitzy, where Bebe Neuwirth plays a small-town girl turned college instructor turned summertime waitress who sings vibrant numbers like "Ain't This a Kick in the Pants?" and "Where's My Coleslaw, Bitch?: A Love Song from Customers" and "There's Something Sexy (About an Apron Full of Singles)."
It's hard to process everything--all the new people and things--and it's hard to get over the comparisons--between the old restaurant and the new; between my grad school life and post-grad school life--but I'm working on it. I'm trying to find my footing in my new routine. I'm trying to find words to write, trying to finish my book, and trying very hard not to panic because a lot of this feels familiar, like I've lived this summer before. It wouldn't be the worst thing, I suppose, to have a deja vu summer, but I just have to talk myself into it. Slowly, slowly, slowly. Slowly and surely, I can talk myself into it.
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