My Evil Twin Is Trying To Kill Me

I took Girl X to sign up for cheerleading on Saturday. I'm not sure how what happened there actually started, but I'm blaming sleep deprivation. Because, as I've stated before, sleep loss has launched many a bad idea.

I was filling out the forms and half-listening to what the annoyingly perky person in front of me was saying.

"...Bale blah, blah blah Coach blah......"

Wait a minute. Did she say coach? Nah. Couldn't have. Back to ignore.

"blah, blah blahblah Coach blah... You coach blah blah...."

Shit! Did she just say that?

Sign? Sign what?

Oh. My. Shit!! Is that????

Oh. That's my name. That's my signature. NNOOOOO!!!!!

I did sign that. Shit!!

Wait. Perky is talking again.

"... We'll call and interview you... blah blah blah.....but you'll get it.. blah blah blah..."

Wait. How much torture can they fit into one paper? I suck at interviews. I always say something stupid, like how when I was 5 I thought I could fly and jumped off my porch steps onto the pavement and now I have this nasty scar, and did I mention it's on the phone? I sound like a 6 year old on the phone. And coach? Me? I was never a cheerleader. I don't know any cheers. How am I supposed to pull this one off?

When I said I would coach Girl X's cheer squad a couple months ago, I thought it would get a couple of laughs and that would be it. I mean, come on! Me? Cheer? Me, who can't even walk without tripping over the air in front of me?

But I did. And I am.


I am taking bets now on how long it will be before I fall and break something vital. Like my foot. Or my ass.


I give it a week.