monday, monday

The weekend was good. Really good. And for no other reason than the people I spent my time with were exactly who I’d chose to do loads of nothing with. Shopping, tea time, more shopping, more tea time. A party, an impromptu fashion show (I’m such an easy-to-work with model) and again more tea time. This tea time thing is starting to be my favorite part of the day. It’s like The Golden Girls over here.

I’m sitting here in my ever-so-soft Victoria’s Secret robe, showered, fed and stalling. Yeah, it’s 6:45 and if I don’t light a fire under my own tush, I’m going to be late. Again. Today is going to be manic — the kind of work day that requires you to be on top of your game. So on top of your game that people won’t be certain whether you’re even playing the same game they are. And I’d so much rather stay home and cuddle with Kitten. Ah, well. As long as I’m going to be making the power plays, might as well dress the part.

It’s all about the fishnet stockings.

*** Edit ***

It’s now 9:30 and I have snagged my stockings, forgotten my lunch and would give anything to trade in this suit for my robe. Gah! Stupid, stupid Monday. It should be tea time.

*** AND!! ***

It’s now 11:30 and box just arrived for me. My little heart got all excited when I opened it to find loads of packing peanuts and two beautifully wrapped gifts… for me to pass on to the Higher Ups. Oh, cruel fate!! What a tease.

*** So ***

It’s about 3:00 and I think the only thing left to do is get ice cream. And contemplate Empire Records. “Don’t let the Man get you down. Damn the Man!”