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Show CHRYSALIS PAGE 112 made a burlap-covered telephone bench, and before we got to use it they shut our phone off. The baby thing is so hopeless. The hormone pills didn't do a damn thing. Our odds are 1 out of 125, or once every 15 months the odds are with us. Then there's another complication • my temperature chart isn't registering like the sample one. Either I am dead, or the thermometer is broken. Any wonder I don't feel like pounding on doors in Hollywood? This is more important to me than acting. I'm so desperate I've even started praying, and I don't believe in it! But just in case there is a God up there who listens to us tiny human's troubles, I'm trying. You know, leaving no stone unturned, that sort of thing. David's birthday is tomorrow and we don't have any money to get him a present. Guess I'll have to charge something. What a rut we're in. I've been painting upstairs. I painted the wastepaper basket blue and the top of the chest. David finally finished it. One of the cats knocked over the paint can. What fun we had cleaning it up. I'm doing "Lower Depths" by Gorkey. All the women's parts are good - so wish me luck! |