Having a fantastic disaster at Vanity Fair as am healing old wounds and tearing into new ones. Have become the darling of the office now have learned how to create a disaster thanks to Tennille, my ever-affectionate and doting mentor.
Am fantastizing about a life where searching for a new job is not a priority.
Whateves.
I need a drink, I need a ride around New Rochelle, I need a night with some lovely creature, not at all opposed to being used. I need all of these and more.
The happy ever colorful walls of Fir light up these days with the onset of some fantastic design plans. Bags is still hanging around, no longer the subject of raunchy in-office fantasties as over the lack of wit he perscribes to conversation. Although quite flattered by a display of carefully mulled over upper body in tight fitting cheap T-shirts in orange. J'adore.
Other than that, no real change in forecast. It rained all day today, literally. I used to believe that rain was a sign of onsetting success, and let us hope my consequent interview with Hillary Clinton at Fir this week goes well. Crims says to dress fantastically, and I of course concur. Use what you got, even if it isn't much. God only knows what I'm going to ask!
Eating like a starvation victim recently freed. Queen of carbohydrates and thighs to prove it. None the les,, am daydreaming over some more pepsi.
Hanging; if not strongly, surely. Am getting used to having no ground beneath my feet. Have learned to kick quite profusely.
Am blest despite this misfortune. Am a slow train, crawling up a hill. Awaiting the ever sweetened moment when we hit the climax, when just one jolt goes out beneath me, when I begin that glorious speed, faster faster, into the light.
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