She had a shoot in the morning, two giant scheduling conflicts, ominous weather approaching, and a knot in her stomach that would take even a boy scout a solid hour to undo.
She had the house to clean. Monologues to write. People to deal with. Could a girl ever get a drink?
She'd dumped Floyd. Not only had she dumped Floyd, she'd straight-up obliterated him, reducing him to a whining puddle of pathetic boy. It had felt really good. It was actually the first time she had ever stood up to a boy, and the way he'd been acting toward her, he'd definitely deserved it. So far, she wasn't feeling the breakup effects yet- the loneliness, the lust, and so forth.
She was missing Dennis though. And the more she hung around him, the more it became apparent that he was not only not interested in her in any sort of romantic fashion, but seemed to be getting annoyed with her as a person too. She had just called him, freaking out about tomorrow. His exasperated response was cut short by a dropped (she hoped) connection that he never bothered to remedy, which made Liz feel even more uneasy.
How was she going to pull this off tomorrow? How was she going to make a decent shoot and juggle actors' schedules, weather, and every other little crisis that kept popping up at the last moment? There were a bunch of people looking to her to see that everything went well. If she screwed up, it was on her head. Seeing as the real Liz managed to do it every week and not die from ulcers or heart attacks, it was now up to our heroine to stiffen her upper lip and get through it. Crises be damned.
The knots were tightening.
No comments:
Post a Comment