Thanks for the support, critter.<\/p>\n
Appreciate it.<\/p>\n
Yesterday I was laying in bed with my laptop—as I do—and I felt like I was falling forward despite not actually moving.<\/p>\n
I also had considerable tingling in my fingers and buzzing in my foot.<\/p>\n
Later I felt as though I was suspended in Jello. (Why is that side effect never on any of the lists?)<\/p>\n
Yes.<\/p>\n
Topamax.<\/p>\n
I remember you.<\/p>\n
When Bob got home, he said there was definitely something noticeably different with me, though he couldn’t pinpoint what it was.<\/p>\n
Also, we both concluded that we thought I was high.<\/p>\n
While the drugs are not “working” just yet, they are definitely doing SOMETHING<\/i>.<\/p>\n
…<\/p>\n
Side note…<\/p>\n
Twitter changed shit again. WTF is going on with the giant text?<\/p>\n
Anyway.<\/p>\n
Writer’s block happens and then I find myself wading from folder to folder, futzing around with random files, editing typos, adding and fixing bits and pieces, but not really accomplishing anything.<\/p>\n
Then I wind up in the “seek therapy<\/a><\/b>” folder and that only results in drivel more inane than the typical nonsense that generally pours out of my brain.<\/p>\n …<\/p>\n \nHe rubbed his chin, glancing at his watch, “Have you had dinner?”<\/p>\n “Dinner?” she frowned, looking around the room for the time, “I don’t even know what time it is. No I haven’t. I’ve been working.”<\/p>\n “Let me take you to dinner.”<\/p>\n “No.”<\/p>\n “Why not?”<\/p>\n “Because I don’t want to have dinner with you. Also, I’d have to put on pants.”<\/p>\n “Pants are optional. Dresses are better.”<\/p>\n “A dress ain’t gonna happen, even if I’d brought one with me.”<\/p>\n “No dresses?”<\/p>\n “I own<\/i> dresses. I avoid wearing them if at all possible.”<\/p>\n “And why is that?”<\/p>\n “I hate wearing a damn dress. I’m a jeans and Chucks kind of girl. If I can’t wear jeans, it’s not worth the effort.”<\/p>\n “Yet you work a job where you don’t wear jeans.”<\/p>\n “That was probably a mistake.”<\/p>\n “You don’t like your job?”<\/p>\n “I love my job. I wouldn’t have spent all that money on school if I didn’t want this career. I just hate the dress code.”<\/p>\n “We can go somewhere jeans appropriate.”<\/p>\n “No.”<\/p>\n “We could order room service.”<\/p>\n “Stop it.”<\/p>\n “Why don’t you want to have dinner with me?”<\/p>\n “Because you’ve been staring at my tits for two days straight.”<\/p>\n “They’re nice tits,” he shrugged.<\/p>\n “They’re real too.”<\/p>\n “I figured as much. You have curves. I like curves.”<\/p>\n “I have stretch marks too. Do you like those?”<\/p>\n “Do you have kids?” he frowned.<\/p>\n “No. But I packed on quite a bit of weight in college along with everyone else. A steady diet of beer and pizza are not conducive to a small waistline. I lost it all in grad school when I was too stressed and too busy to eat.”<\/p>\n “Grad school?”<\/p>\n “MBA.”<\/p>\n He nodded his approval.<\/p>\n “Why do you want me<\/i> so goddamn bad? I’m pretty sure there are plenty of women in this city falling all over themselves to get near you.”<\/p>\n “I want you<\/i> because you’re beautiful and sexy as hell. You’re intelligent and independent and you don’t put up with bullshit. You’re a strong woman. You have no idea how much that turns me on.”<\/p>\n “I could probably guess,” she snorted, looking pointedly at his crotch. He quirked an eyebrow, but didn’t say anything. She rolled her eyes and shook her head, “If you know I don’t put up with bullshit, why do you keep trying to feed it to me?”<\/p>\n “I’m not feeding you bullshit, I’m telling you exactly what I want.”<\/p>\n “You want to take me to dinner and you want to fuck me.”<\/p>\n “Yes.”<\/p>\n “That’s it?”<\/p>\n “Yes.”<\/p>\n “Classy guy you are,” she pinched the bridge of her nose, “if I keep telling you no<\/i>, is this what the next eight weeks are going to be like?”<\/p>\n “Does that compel you to say yes<\/i>?”<\/p>\n “No<\/i> it doesn’t. It compels<\/i> me to make a few phone calls to the powers that be to get me the fuck out of this city.”<\/p>\n “I’m pretty sure you need to be here for the duration.”<\/p>\n “So now this is where you tell me that you’ll sever the contract if I leave?”<\/p>\n “Short of fucking over my company, nothing between you and me is going to change anything about this contract. I’m fairly confident that you’re not going to do anything in that realm.”<\/p>\n “Fairly<\/i>?”<\/p>\n “I am<\/i> confident. You’re not the type to sabotage.”<\/p>\n “And how do you know that?”<\/p>\n “You haven’t made any idle threats in any of our conversations.”<\/p>\n “Idle threats are generally the mark of a manipulator. I don’t take kindly to manipulators,” she paused as she noticed a flash of anger cross his face. It was the same look that she caught yesterday when she brought up her ex-husband. She was hitting a nerve with something but she wasn’t sure what.<\/p>\n “Why are you still working at seven-thirty at night?”<\/p>\n She frowned at the sudden shift he took. She shrugged, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind her ear, “I usually work late. Considering I’m here on business, I’ll probably be logging a lot of late nights.”<\/p>\n “You don’t want to explore the city?”<\/p>\n “I’ve explored<\/i> it. I hate New York. I’ve been here plenty of times. It’s the chaos and stench and stupid people of Minneapolis magnified exponentially. When they send me here, I do what I have to do and get the hell out as soon as possible. I thought the week-long stays were miserable. Now I’m trapped here for two solid months. Forgive my bitchy disposition, but I blame your demands for this position I’m stuck in.”<\/p>\n “My demands<\/i>?”<\/p>\n “Everyone is all bent out of shape over landing this account. Everyone is convinced you’re a tough crowd to please. They’re all afraid to piss you off. They’re all intimidated by you.”<\/p>\n “Clearly you’re not.”<\/p>\n “Why should I be? You’re a human being just like everybody else. Just because you have more money than God doesn’t make you any more special than any other person. As for pissing you off? I piss a lot of people off. People don’t like to hear the truth about themselves. I’m not inclined to apologize for it. You would be nothing new.”<\/p>\n He rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb, eyeing her critically. He smirked, shaking his head, “Now I really<\/i> understand why you’re leading this project.”<\/p>\n She shrugged, dismissing him with a wave.<\/p>\n “Have dinner with me.”<\/p>\n “No.”<\/p>\n “I’m not looking for a long term commitment here. I have neither the time nor the desire to date.”<\/p>\n “One night stands and fuck buddies are not my forte. I’m certainly not on the prowl for another husband, but I’m not interested in some womanizer either.”<\/p>\n “Women I get involved with know exactly what I want from them. They know exactly what they’re going to get from me. We have mutually agreed upon terms. No attachments. No expectations. We both get what we want.”<\/p>\n “Do you make them sign NDAs and contracts too?”<\/p>\n He arched an eyebrow and snorted, “Somebody reads too many trashy books.”<\/p>\n “Yeah, well somebody else<\/i> got the reference,” she rolled her eyes, “So sex is just another business transaction for you—minus the financial exchange, I assume.”<\/p>\n He shrugged, but didn’t say anything.<\/p>\n “Do you schedule it<\/i> too?”<\/p>\n “More or less.”<\/p>\n She rolled her eyes again, shaking her head, “I don’t think so, Scooter.”\n<\/p><\/blockquote>\n Some things are only funny to me.<\/p>\n My little writing buddy is such an enabler.<\/p>\n —<\/p>\n<\/center><\/p>\n
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