I mean, who actually thought I was just going to give up after day 10?
As I start this 10 New Days for Tina Fey series, I do so with a heavy heart, a headache, severe congestion, and a sore throat. Yes, I am officially full-blown sick. If there was any day in which I would seek to avoid Tina Fey, it would be today. Who wants to hire a baby writer who not only has never undergone professional training, but is also prone to sneezing and coughing up substances of an off-white nature? If I did happen to run into Tina Fey today, I think my best bet would be to just toss my script at her (like the t-shirt toss at basketball games), perhaps do a little cheer, and run away. If a great distance separated me from Tina Fey, I suppose I’d have to figure out a novel means by which I can actually toss my script accurately. I mean, lawyers know that documents aren’t in a shape conducive to accurate flight. Like that time a partner threw a brief at me, totally missed, and then watched as I laughed hysterically. I guess I could do the message in a bottle technique and insert my script into a bottle, fashion the bottle with some rubberized grips, and then throw said bottle in a football like motion. I guess the problem with that is, if Tina Fey isn’t paying attention, I may just knock her out. I’d like my script to knock her out, but not literally. Plus, if my script did in fact knock her out, I’m pretty sure that her bodyguards would end up tackling me, thereby abruptly ending my dream to work for Tina Fey.
I’m sick and I’m delusional. The former is a new development.
Discover me, Tina Fey!