tell me why i'd rather tweeze my furrowed brow than crack open that screenplay.
tell my why my dream involved the cute kid from Cane, home invasion, Justine lecturing me about boys, and, oh yeah - a 7-11 hostage situation... &/or possible murder.
tell me why i woke up with Pat Benatar ringing in my ears, only to find out that "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" was not, in fact, playing anywhere outside of my own head.
tell me why i sing along...
tell me why i cannot wait for the sun to come up!
tell me why i have the sudden and overwhelming urge to shower and start the actual day!
on second thought, don't tell me - i'll just go with it.
watch me run!
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