kiwifruit's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- only Tuesday I actually rose today at the crack of dawn and worked out. i felt so virtous, I then had a cup of green tea (gack). Then I went out on to the porch and smoked a cigarette. Oh well. I am trying desperatley to keep busy and not let my hatred for boss-man curdle my blood into acidic bile. It is going okay so far. He is in a considerably better mood today. Still, I am steering clear as much as possible. I am sitting here imagining I had a better job, one in which I was busy all the time and competent, and the day flew by. One in which I got paid well and could wear cute outfits and didn't want to kill myself every morning on my commute in. Is it too much to ask? A job that doesn't drive one to suicidal fantasies? More than anything I want to work for a magazine. But I have heard those editorial assistant stories. I have heard that the evil glare of Ms. Anna Wintour can turn you in to stone. I have heard of girls getting fired for having bad outfits or big asses. I have heard of pay so low one has to subsist on Campbell's tomato soup. I kid you not. Perhaps freelancing is the way to go. If only I had the balls - or whatever the female equivlant of those is.....If only I had the confidence that my writing wasn't pure, self-indulgent schlock. Well....basically it IS. But Bridget Jones was a best seller for HOW long? Mr. Copywriter didn't call. But I am surprisingly unfazed by this. Probably because I am convinced I am so fabulous that he can't possibly resist calling today. Also, I really don't care. There are plenty of men in this here rotten apple. Speaking of which, Spring has sprung in NYC. It is glorious. I spent a good part of last weekend frolicking in the sun without a care in the world - if only every day could be so wonderful. I am looking at an apartment in Park Slope tonight. I would fall down at the woman's feet and beg (and even lick those tootsies) if I thought it would get me the apartment. Instead I have to rely on my charm to get me the place. Must remember to drink LOTS of coffee before I go to see the apartment, but not so much so that I seem like a strung out coke head. A delicate balance indeed. 09:40:33 - 2000-05-02 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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