ready, set, let go
"what are you doing the rest of your life?"
Commenting is closed for this article.
So cold. Brr.
Much to my chagrin, they moved me from my lovely, spacious office with no windows to a big sort-of-corner office with windows this summer. Not that I’m allergic to the day star or anything of that kind, but I’ve had to pull down the blinds to block the sunlight from glaring off my monitors.
What I didn’t count on, of course, was the insulative properties of plate glass (which is, to say, none at all). So I am sitting in my office with a space heater by my feet and a long sweater coat wrapped snugly around me. Oh, and I came into work wearing a wool tweed pantsuit that could conceivably keep me alive through an Arctic blizzard. Yet I still freeze.
I should just transcribe my chat with J.S. from last night, as it would doubtless be more amusing than anything I could write up, but it’s entirely too long. So I will give you the Cliff’s Notes (or for you SA goons, the tl;dr) version.
Josh: Yeah, I got rained on. Elle: Have some Sophie Ellis Bextor to keep you warm. Josh: How did it go? Elle: Men suck. And this particular one is gay. Josh: Did you know your life’s an NPR broadcast? Elle: I’m sticking with “gay.” Josh: Or one of the fabled Nice Guy species. Elle: Hurrah, I found one! Josh: Yeah, but I think you spooked him. Elle: Damn. Josh: It was the lace briefs that did it. Elle: No, I think it was the boots.
And for the tl;dr crew: Elle finds nice guy, and finds out why nice guys finish last. Why? Because they don’t even start.