In love with lethargy

As the start day of my new job rapidly approaches, I find myself taking inventory: my closet, for example. Do I have any pants that aren't low riders? Do I have any skirts that don't have a leopard print? Any turtleneck sweaters that don't have armpit holes? Cute t-shirts that actually come past my belly button? A belt without metal studs? A decent winter coat? (no to all).

More importantly, I find myself thinking of my brain. My wits. I haven't really had to use either in a workplace in over four years. My new boss is going to say "Kath, coordinate the schedule in triplicate and fax it over to Emeril" and I'll have one hand picking my nose and the other pulling up my pants to hide my new Superman thong while jerking it to the Everyday Italian.

Speaking of Italians, thought I might somehow hear from the little boy I just broke up with. Alas. Must find other New Years tail. Such is life.

From Tim:
K: Hey Tim, what do you do for New Years every year?
T: Wake up next to somebody I don't know.