Muse has left me in the dust. Would fire the bitch if she actually existed. Perhaps is a man. Would explain the constant disappointment I have of the inadequacy of inspiration. Am considering a call in, due to illness. *Cough* See? Am horribly ill. *Cough, cough* But could get much writing finished.
Other shit: Bored with K/supervisor drama. Am also getting nowhere with D (studly manager). Would say I am losing my touch but I have yet to make real attempt. Still studying my prey. Oddly, my calm demeanor has slipped with this one. Should I be worried?
Other-er shit: R still behind dumpster smoking. In rain. Persistent bugger. Told him smoking is bad for his health. R said "Suck my hairy balls", to which I answered, "When you have some, love." Have no intention of actually doing so, mind you. I hate children.
Am now thinking my retort was not a wise statement as R need only report that I made an offer to a minor. Hopefully he is not clever enough to figure it and I will be wiser.
Note to self: "Mia, mind your tongue. It has caused trouble more than once. Begin re-employment of said appendage toward happier pursuits. Preferably involving chocolate."