Insane Playhouse (a Cameron Dallas fanfict)

1

"Ma'am, the cafe will be closing soon."

Taking a glance at my watch, it takes everything I have to not scream. 10:00 pm? I've been here ALL day?

I-I was supposed to go to Ozark's Trading Goods at 5 pm to discuss my job interview for the store...

And then I was to meet Terry for dinner at 8...

But no, I was stuck in this damn cafe from 10 a.m. until fricking 10 p.m., I slept a whole fricking day!

12. hours. Now I'm going to have to call Terry to apologize, and as for the job interview... screw it, I'll just attend the one tomorrow.

Rent isn't cheap, and I'm going to need some money if I want to still live in the apartment on 5th street.

Standing up, I sling my bag over my shoulder and leave the money for my cold coffee on the table. Great, now I'm going to be up all night and be fatigued for my interview tomorrow.

I really have to stop going to those midnight parties at Steph's. They keep me up all night long, and I can barely keep my eyelids up during the day, yet alone compose myself. At least I don't look like a zombie like I normally do from the lack of sleep.

I stumble into my cheap, rundown chevy and drive home.

~~~Next Morning~~~

At least I wake up on time and don't fall asleep. Again.

I drag myself out of my bed, exhausted as usual, except today it is magnified because I didn't sleep last night. At all.

I look around me, and it seems as though I'm watching a 3D movie. My laptop on the other side of the room seems to be only a couple feet away, so I reach down to grab it so that I can check the weather, but when I reach down, all I feel is air. Great, now I'm hallucinating.

I just hope this doesn't happen during the job interview at the Northport Asylum.

I sigh out of frustration and unintentionally sway as I stumble into the kitchen to make myself some coffee.

It brews as I shower and change into a blouse and jeans, with a beanie and coat. Hey, Canada is cold.

I grab my keys from my desk, just to find air. Lovely.

"Keys... keys... keys..." I say to myself and find them on top of my bed.

I am overjoyed to hear the rattle if the keys against each other. About time.

Then I go into the kitchen to add a bunch of sugar to my coffee (it's always too bland) and then walk to the door, stop by impact of my face being implanted in the wall.

"Damn it!" I growl in frustration, rubbing my aching nose.

I'm definitely sleeping as soon as I get home.

I debate whether or not to skip it, but go anyway. I really need this job, and interviews don't just fly at you. It took a while for me to get the one today, and especially the one that I missed yesterday.

I blindly walk around the room until I find the door where I have to eventually find the knob.

I walk into my car, but stupidly enough, I enter and sit on the passengers seat.

Well, that's not going to get me anywhere, I think to myself.

My car swerves a little and I hear several honks, but I ignore them.

I pull into the parking lot of the asylum, amazed that I didn't crash the car.

I probably look like I'm drunk right now.