Reality: The Next Generation

Today I was having a conversation at work with my boss, Amanda, and she mentioned, as she has before, that I should have my own reality television show. Apparently I'm entertaining. Or it could be one of those things like when you can't look away from a car wreck. Or something. I think she first mentioned it when one of the wheels on my chair broke off, making my chair tipsy, and I decided to name my chair "Eileen." (Get it? "I lean?" Hahahahahaha, I slay me.) So anyway, I thought that in case any big producers are looking for the next big thing, I would give a little taste of what a day in the life of Rena might look like...

The scene opens as the sun streams through the slats of the window blinds onto a still figure. The room is beautiful and immaculate, and the woman in the bed sleeps peacefully, radiating beauty and warmth even in slumber. As the birds announce the beginning of another day, she stirs, opening her eyes and sitting up gracefully, arms reaching in a luxurious stretch. She catches sight of the cameras and gives a friendly smile, her straight white teeth glinting in the sunlight.

BWAAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!! Okay, so we're not in a Disney movie. Sorry, I'll start again.

In reality, it would probably start with me hiding under my comforter from the light. I would be flailed all over the bed, most likely with my feet hanging out (they don't like to be confined) and I might be drooling and snoring just a bit (but that's never been proven). The alarm goes off, and I reach frantically for it to hit snooze. Repeat four or five times, and I might suddenly sit up, my hair a rat's nest, and quickly put in my contacts as I realize I'm running late. Again. (Throw in some shots of the clock to illustrate this, it'll add suspense.) We'll skip the next part. No one needs to know THAT much about me.

Once I'm slightly awake, I turn on my "Morning Dance Party" CD (it does exist) and dance while getting ready to face the day. This CD includes the latest from Lady Gaga as well as old school songs like "California Love." This would be quite entertaining for viewers, as I'm almost certain I'm an abysmal dancer. I kind of flop around like I'm having an episode. No worries though, it's all in fun. Something quite interesting happens when it comes time to find something to wear. I tend to sit and stare at my clothes for long periods of time. Oh wait, did I say interesting? I meant boring. I have no idea where the time goes while I contemplate my outfits. Mostly I'm in my head. I suppose some of that would have to be narrated. Do I go for boring black? Do I try to do a theme? (My favorite theme outfit is my circle one.) Comfy? Warm? Wow, this show is going to be amazing.

Once I'm dressed, it's about the time I start talking. Now, of course I've been singing with the music, but this is the time when I start calling for my posessions. Oh hello, car keys. We're leaving soon. Mr. Microwave, what should I make for lunch today? CD player, stop skipping on my Jai Ho! And we're out the door, still singing, definitely still dancing. (It's really a good thing I don't see people in my hallway very often) (Who is we? Seriously??)

In the car, I talk to the other cars. I believe I have mentioned before that I don't talk to the people in the cars, but the cars themselves. This is between songs on the radio, of course, with which I am obligated to sing at the top of my lungs.

Work would be pretty entertaining. I work with a funny bunch. Maybe we should all have a show. We could call it "The Office." Wait. That's already taken? Okay, then we'll call it "The Cube." Awesome. Our conversations would be entertainment enough to fill an entire hour (yes, my show will be an hour), and that doesn't even include the quiet times peppered with me singing to myself or dancing in my chair or staring at Nicole (lol) or throwing objects at Phyllis. I mean...errr...Phyllis throwing things at me. That's right. That's how it goes. Or would go. If that really ever happened. Uhhh... (Hi Amanda! I'm dedicating this blog to you ;))

Cameras might follow me to my different towns and watch as I park in random parking lots, but that's not very exciting. And they definitely couldn't follow me on my sessions! Sheesh. Can't believe that was even up for discussion!

What else might you expect from my show? Well. When I'm by myself for long periods of time, the real craziness begins. In my head. Which is when I giggle randomly. Or roll my eyes. A camera might walk in to find me laying on the floor contemplating the ceiling or the carpet. Or stacking things. What things? I don't know. Just things. Or perhaps just standing in the middle of the room, having forgotten why I was there.

Earlier this evening I was trying to figure out if the digits in my phone number spelled out anything fun. Or anything at all. They don't. I was bummed.

What was I talking about? I got bored. Okay, so maybe the reality show isn't the greatest idea. But I would sure be entertained. And so would my friends. Because I have A LOT of friends. (That was just for you, Nicole!)

Um. I have no good ending for this. I hate when endings are abrupt, but I just