Entry XLV--Media Day
My arms slept better than I did last night; tossed and turned on both of them in futile intervals to get a decent shift of slumber.
But the shift was far from decent so the DVNT makeup artists will be hard-pressed to remove the bags out from under my eyes.
Ugh. Haven't had to wake up this early since the day everyone moved in here. But that was something to look forward to; this is an obstacle that we can't wait to get around.
At least, I can't wait to get around, but nobody seemed overtly thrilled when told that they were needed to hang around the house all day while we get filmed by a TV channel that pretty much opposes the Bye Bull--and by extension, all the Wheelers, who came here because of whatever they got out of their respective reading of the Bye Bull.
Thought I caught a keen glimmer in his eye, but then he comes across as a bit of a showboat, like he wants to catch the reflected attention I receive.
Well, this will be his chance to shine under a solo spotlight, as it were. Want--no, will insist to the producer that each os us is interviewed individually. Don't want this to be 'Darwin and his sycophants variety hour'
Main thing will be the Round Table meeting; I told them I had a surprise to spring on them and that seemed to ratchet up their enthusiasm about the whole thing a notch or two.
Not Eliza though. She isn't too keen on surprises. Course, hearing about the clinic will not a surprise to Doc or Anna, who are both firmly commited to working at the clinic whenever its doors open.
Also decided am going to let the other Wheelers know that Doc and Anna were informed about the clinic first--not because I was playing favorites, but because they were both invited to work at the clinic and had to be given time to consider the offer.
The woman laying sound asleep next to me also knows, but getting her within fifty feet of any DVNT camera isn't likely, so she isn't going to be talking much about the clinic.
All I wanna do is climb back under the warm cover and spoon with Cassandra, but responsibilities beckon. Swear, of all the things Ms. Cabal's made me do, this is probably the worst. So dreading this encounter with the DVNT producer, not to mention the entire day beyond that point. Trying to compartmentalize things at this point, a rare zen-approach for me.
It's the only way of maintaining my sanity through this; trying to subsume the whole shitty day ahead of me would cause me to spontaneously combust.
Think I'd rather endure another blown-up bookstore than have to deal with these TV schmucks and have to appear on camera. Thought my publicity seeking days were at an end.
Rub another layer of sleep out of my eyes; that leaves 11 to go. Lean over my shoulder at the motionless form of Cassandra, deep in coma. She sleeps as still as anyone I've ever known. At least anyone I've ever slept with. Always wonder if it's an extension of her having to be so rigid when she worked security.
She doesn't sleep like a great painter.
But sleep she will do, because pretty much the last thing I wanna do is wake her up on a day she was looking forward to even less than I. Cassandra's not camera-shy, she's shy period, and she wants no part of these proceedings.
Even getting her to attend the Round Table meeting we have scheduled for later on today (early evening actually) is going to be dicey at best. Hopefully she'll wake up a few minutes before it starts and I can get her to just wander to the Table in a semi-awake state.
But even if she doesn't, not going to press the issue. For one, can't blame her for not wanting to be on-camera, and two, I don't want DVNT here myself.
Takes every kilogram of will in my innards to push myself up and away from the warm and seductive bed...
...but I wanna get into the bathroom before any of the other early risers, like Anna, do.
Absolute worst thing about living here is ten people having to share one real bathroom. Obviously that kind of overuse requires overkill when it comes to cleaning; we alternate shifts to make it gets the onceover st least twice a day.
There's another toilet in a very small room, akin to a closet, but only one legit lavatory.
Saints be praised; I am indeed the first arrival and am able to rinse out my cleancut dome in the sink, shave and splash cold water in my face. Finally summon the nerve to lift my face up to the mirror and find the bags are indeed well-packed. But again, if it's not good enough, that's for makeup to fret over.
But the shift was far from decent so the DVNT makeup artists will be hard-pressed to remove the bags out from under my eyes.
Ugh. Haven't had to wake up this early since the day everyone moved in here. But that was something to look forward to; this is an obstacle that we can't wait to get around.
At least, I can't wait to get around, but nobody seemed overtly thrilled when told that they were needed to hang around the house all day while we get filmed by a TV channel that pretty much opposes the Bye Bull--and by extension, all the Wheelers, who came here because of whatever they got out of their respective reading of the Bye Bull.
Thought I caught a keen glimmer in his eye, but then he comes across as a bit of a showboat, like he wants to catch the reflected attention I receive.
Well, this will be his chance to shine under a solo spotlight, as it were. Want--no, will insist to the producer that each os us is interviewed individually. Don't want this to be 'Darwin and his sycophants variety hour'
Main thing will be the Round Table meeting; I told them I had a surprise to spring on them and that seemed to ratchet up their enthusiasm about the whole thing a notch or two.
Not Eliza though. She isn't too keen on surprises. Course, hearing about the clinic will not a surprise to Doc or Anna, who are both firmly commited to working at the clinic whenever its doors open.
Also decided am going to let the other Wheelers know that Doc and Anna were informed about the clinic first--not because I was playing favorites, but because they were both invited to work at the clinic and had to be given time to consider the offer.
The woman laying sound asleep next to me also knows, but getting her within fifty feet of any DVNT camera isn't likely, so she isn't going to be talking much about the clinic.
All I wanna do is climb back under the warm cover and spoon with Cassandra, but responsibilities beckon. Swear, of all the things Ms. Cabal's made me do, this is probably the worst. So dreading this encounter with the DVNT producer, not to mention the entire day beyond that point. Trying to compartmentalize things at this point, a rare zen-approach for me.
It's the only way of maintaining my sanity through this; trying to subsume the whole shitty day ahead of me would cause me to spontaneously combust.
Think I'd rather endure another blown-up bookstore than have to deal with these TV schmucks and have to appear on camera. Thought my publicity seeking days were at an end.
Rub another layer of sleep out of my eyes; that leaves 11 to go. Lean over my shoulder at the motionless form of Cassandra, deep in coma. She sleeps as still as anyone I've ever known. At least anyone I've ever slept with. Always wonder if it's an extension of her having to be so rigid when she worked security.
She doesn't sleep like a great painter.
But sleep she will do, because pretty much the last thing I wanna do is wake her up on a day she was looking forward to even less than I. Cassandra's not camera-shy, she's shy period, and she wants no part of these proceedings.
Even getting her to attend the Round Table meeting we have scheduled for later on today (early evening actually) is going to be dicey at best. Hopefully she'll wake up a few minutes before it starts and I can get her to just wander to the Table in a semi-awake state.
But even if she doesn't, not going to press the issue. For one, can't blame her for not wanting to be on-camera, and two, I don't want DVNT here myself.
Takes every kilogram of will in my innards to push myself up and away from the warm and seductive bed...
...but I wanna get into the bathroom before any of the other early risers, like Anna, do.
Absolute worst thing about living here is ten people having to share one real bathroom. Obviously that kind of overuse requires overkill when it comes to cleaning; we alternate shifts to make it gets the onceover st least twice a day.
There's another toilet in a very small room, akin to a closet, but only one legit lavatory.
Saints be praised; I am indeed the first arrival and am able to rinse out my cleancut dome in the sink, shave and splash cold water in my face. Finally summon the nerve to lift my face up to the mirror and find the bags are indeed well-packed. But again, if it's not good enough, that's for makeup to fret over.
posted by Darwin Grimm at 7:38 PM
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