One two-hundred dollar hair-do later (Mrs. Clinton? I'm sorry, Senator, I do not recall that...) and still having refrained from Want-to-Put-My-Brain-to-Sleep drinking, am feeling well-rested and healthy, if not one step closer to glamorous.
Am only missing dark sunglasses and four-hundred dollar shoes.
Spent leisurely dinner with GalPal, eating entire contents of one Italian Restaurant's galley, and discussing current J situation and Fishy pathetic, irrational need to cling to said debilitated fuckwit. Only result was frustrating poor GalPal. Will have to sit and think up better explanations to satisfy concerned friends. Or self.
Indeed