Martini and Macaroni

That's what I'm having. It's 11pm. I'm tired. I've stood on my feet in those damn shoes since around 3pm today. Yep, that's right. I'm in. So not only did I pass the "audition"/amateur night contest...; but I placed 3rd. A hundred bucks. Not bad for an old gal who was only there to get a job. Especially considering I am (by far) the oldest dancer that place has. When I say by far I mean the "old gal" has been up to this point thirty-two. Ha!
There were five of us "amateurs" up there last night. I think the next oldest must have been my new best gal pal "Lisa", who's twenty-eight. She's swell. A really sweet girl. Almost seemed too sweet for this business; but proved that wrong when she kicked ass on her first day alone. I could learn a thing or two from the "amateur".....I think she and I will stick together.
I feel like a zombie. Came in last night/this morning at 2:45. The house was still and asleep without me. All except my cat Dwen. She loves the smell of cigarette smoke. It's like catnip to her. She jumped me when I came in the door. Tonight was no exception. I had to strip in the garage and leave everything in there. She kept headbutting me all night as I slept on the sofa (or tried to the couple of hours left).
I've got to work on my agression techniques. It's out of character for me to ask a guy if he wants a dance. I'm used to guys asking me if I want to dance. This is all very strange. I'm going back to my macaroni (before it goes cold) and my martini (before it goes warm).