Lunch date at the Thai place with long evening lines. A text as I walk to the car asking for jokes. I write six in the 8 minute Spanish-radio-station drive and two minute walk. I punch one up on the sidewalk and send. Papaya salad, spicy. I love the peanuts, the sticky coconut rice, the flat noodles. The strawberry table cloth. Connecting with the person across from me. Sometimes it's been too long. He drives me to work. I arrive early to find my ridiculous idea (the guest does a sound bath) has been chosen for the show. I start researching, I start printing, I start fact-checking.
Jooj the script, write the script. There are full blank spaces. We fill them in. Deep talks with someone on her way out. The sun sets in electric orange behind her. Are sound baths cultural appropriation? Is that news story sensitive to discuss? I've learned the reach of what I do.
At tape I find a bowl of broken chocolate Kim Kardashian sent over. I eat two slats and stand int he back row where I always do. Three of my jokes are picked and all three get applause breaks. TF is in the studio today. I look over and see her laugh at what I wrote. Our guest is a delight. My officemate featured in a bit knocks it out of the part. The final bit, penned by other officemate is perfect. I coin its recurring title. A thumbprint?
An exec from The Bachelor is in the audience. A friend of a friend. The three fangirls crowd him and ask as many questions as we can. In the end, Puhg picks me up. I tell him what a strange day it has been. It's only 10:15. I could write more, but maybe my brain deserves a break. I read my zombie novel, spitz the pillow with rose water, and sleep.
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