Stealth Slacker

Dear Diary,

I've been working undercover as a concientious employee, so I have not had time to write. It's been one of my tougher undercover assignments. I'll have to be quick:

new dogs: 1 (black lab, so cute)
new favorite show: Hooking Up
karaoke performances: several
work boyfriends: none
work girlfriends: 1, but she's a dog
great uncles who died: 1
dog leashes in my laptop bag: 2
girls at the lunch counter who hate me: 2
ukulele: learning
necklaces with tennis rackets on them: 1

Gotta go send some important-sounding emails. Can't blow my cover!

Love, Fluffy

shit shit shit

i forgot my sister's birthday.

The Good, the Bad, and the Lava Lamp

Dear Diary,

Guess I should take a moment to update you on my new job.

Good Things:

- good coffee
- popcorn
- dogs
- laptop
- no rules
- beer Fridays
- no stupid posters

Bad Things:

- no restaurants
- traffic
- too many boys
- my cube neighbor has a lava lamp on his desk and clears his throat incessantly

That about sums it up. Lava Lamp is on vacation next week. I hope he's going to have that throat thing fixed.

Gotta go, diary. It's nearly time for beer Friday.

love, Fluffy

Whiz bang!

Dear Diary,

The 4th of July is a very special holiday. It means that I can drink for four days straight. I can wear red white and blue. I can set off dangerous fireworks. I can eat unholy amounts of grilled meat. I can say, "America. Fuck YEAH!" and kind of mean it, kind of.

Recap of the holiday weekend:

BBQs: 4
Dirty harbor water taxi rides: 1
White pants: yes
Beers: many
Daquiries with fresh strawberries: 4
Inappropriate conversations: several
Beers shotgunned: none, actually
Cute shoes: check
Taco station: yes
Watermelon: no
Honeydew/cantaloupe hybrid: yes
Dogs: 3
Parades: 1
Flags: none

And so we wait for the next holiday weekend, when we do it all again, minus the "Fuck YEAH"s and the fireworks.

Love, Fluffy