Ummm yea so my whole little attempt to include gorgeous James into my city circle, yea, failed. Miserably. Due to the fact of course he has seemed to have dropped off the face of the planet.
HE'S JUST NOT THAT INTO YOU.
(oh, yes! I had assumed so, just didn't hear you correctly. Glad we've sorted this out!)
Whateves.
Anyway, more importantly, work is getting interesting as the fierce women of fashion from the tenth floor duke it out over the battle of the dress shirts, namely today's meeting. Once again I was left to fend for myself mediating product verses marketing. Crazy shit went down. Today's topic of choice was labels on polybags and on the shirt itself. Have decided I want nothing more in my life than to be one of these women, stylish and crazed till the end. Eccentric women of fashion, single at 50 but never without the tolken himbo. (usually non-English speaking and tanned, you see) A fabulous loft somewhere and enough to money to tell the rest of the world to go to hell. (which anyone who knows Casey well enough, knows that this in itself is her greatest wish) These bitches are fierce. I want to be glamorous like that, when she walks down the halls, even if she's talking to herself, which she usually is, people still get to work. I love it. I love watching them string their words together, so fucking out there. I love it.
So what if I've been rejected by a man who everyone said from day one isn't of my calibur?! I'm going to be amazing. I'm on the way up, damnit. I've already got my frist promotion mapped out, and even got invited today to a fashion meeting personally. I love it. I love my job, it gives me purpose.
So maybe it didn't work with James. I'll get over it. How many men before him, afterall.
How many afterward?
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