Out of Gas

I'm done.

I'm ready to go home.

I'm sick of actors and musicals and mosquitos and sandwiches and no cell reception and no high speed internet and singing right outside my door and not being able to do... anything.

I want to play cards with my friends and eat what I want and ride the subway and sketch and sleep in my own room and wear some different clothes and work with some different people and go to movies when I want and watch TV and... ugh.

I have three weeks left here. The last week will be pretty boring as the last two shows share a set and the only change in between is furniture. I really have nothing to do here, and what i do have left to do... I have very little will to actually do. I'm tired and I just want to be at home. UGH!

I have two very distinct jobs possibilities open to me after this, both of which are well paying, and both of which are outside NYC, a goal that I've had for a while now. One of them though would require a month long residence in the middle of bumfuck Pennsylvania and I'm not sure how much I really want to do that. I just want to be at home for a while.

Soon... soon... soon.

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