Respect, honestly there isn't much to it, in my opinion at least. Lately, I feel looked over and thrown into crap matches just to take up the Glorious Glass Tower's air time. I am building a glorious feud with the Queen herself, and then poof she disappears! Now I keep getting put in low card matches with mouth breathers who in my opinion shouldn't breathe my air. This damn fed is such a sausage fest I can't even get a match with another woman unless it's Mickey D's new mascot or Halocen. There has to be someone else out there with a teeny weeny bit of talent that wants to go toe to toe with me.

Let's take a look at my Savage match for example. Halocen and I get stuck in a four-way match with two of the most disrespected men in this business so they definitely know what I am talking about. Fluffy Graves and Jimbo Jimmy Jam are in the ring along with us ladies. These two remind me of the Brooklyn Brawler and Doink the Clown. First off ya got a fat guy in a skeleton get up who looks to be a part of that goofy-ass BOB thing. By the way this gal has nothing to do with those mental midgets. Then there is good ol Jimmy boy. He has recently teamed up with Nickles in some kind of butt buddy tag team. I really don't know what I did to piss the bookers off but remind me to send them a dozen roses and a bottle of Gentleman Jack. Maybe if their drunk they will get their heads out of their collective asses. A Girl can hope can't she?

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Lately, it's been hard to sleep. I keep going over my matches in my mind tweaking this and that, figuring out ways to get better as I go. I have been so focused on Jenny lately, I keep letting the little things, like matches against other people, go by the wayside. I had jumped up out of a good stretch of sleep with visions of skeletons and the mutants from hills have eyes chasing after me and the scooby doo gang.

I got up from my bed, wrapped a robe around myself, and padded to the kitchen. I put on some tea looking at my reflection in the toaster, Granted, the image coming back was distorted, but I definitely felt and looked much different than I did just a few months prior. I had been through a pretty good mental and physical wringer lately and it was starting to show. Hell, I was having nightmares and getting distracted doing everyday tasks. So much so that when the teapot whistled I jumped a good four feet off my stool.

I poured myself a cup of tea trying to calm my nerves, but it was doing little good. It feels like every day I am in workouts or in the ring it shows that she is watching me just waiting for me to slip so she can get that one inch over me to take me down. So she can rip open the little cut that is a glaring weakness. No matter what I do there she is always in the back of my mind scoffing and doing all that little cutie shit she does. Not only her but the guys and gals in the back just laughing away every time I misstep and cost myself the upper hand. Hell might as well throw my Dad in there too. For how close we were when I was little we drift further apart each passing year. He doesn't understand why I wanna be in an "unstable" profession. He thinks I should be in insurance like him. After all, every moron out there is gonna need that.

So it's no wonder I can't sleep right? Only so much concealer can hide these bags. Hell, caffeine pills don't even work anymore. The point is I have to overcome the feeling of all eyes on me all the time. Everyone looking and making snap judgments. Oh, she's too short or too new or too naive. I just have to get out of my own head and focus on the one thing in front of me. No not the toaster. The match this Saturday and then I can climb the ladder to respect that it seems everyone can find, but me.