Meanwhile I'm filling out many many sheets of drivel concerning my phone number and insurance. It's taking a good bit of time. Um. Don't want to work for you. Not going to pay taxes or asking you to have my babies. Just need the ankle looked at. Seriously. When I got married, I signed ONE piece of paper. Marriage. You know, that whole thing for life? ONE signature.
Now it looks like I'm filling out something that really should be their job, along the lines of check where it hurts.
My friend is filming a movie in my garage--well, some of the scenes. There are guns and mats and some hot chile and they promise they're laying plastic, so I think it'll be some exciting stuff. This is one of the bigger productions I've hung around, maybe 20 people on set at any given time? Contrary to popular belief, hanging around a film set is mostly boring. People chatting about inane things like shoes, texting, having naps (you think I'm kidding) and me, throwing back a few Coors Lights. The kids had fun watching, but my daughter and I had to finally retire at 11:30 to read books and go to sleep. Doing voices for ROOM ON A BROOM is infinitely more fun when you've tossed back a few cans of Coors Light.
Hey. Back off my taste in beer.