I can't think straight...
Oh dear God. Just as I start to get worried about what the hell has happened to Cole, I find out that I have EVERY reason to BE worried. He's trapped in an elevator. In that Hells-R-Us building he works in. With a woman. All alone. That chickadee who slept with that...the vampire who isn't Spike. I need to get names straight. So far, I know that Cole works with Morrigan, Peeing on Everything Guy with Nice Suit, Anal Retentive Possibly Scottish or Australian Man with Glasses (not the one who Buffy says watches her...oh, that sounds creepy) , Giggly Science Girl Who Holds Liquor V. Poorly, Moustache For Unibrow Cheeky Bastard, Fucking Coral Lipstick and Blue Eye shadow Lawyer Who Had Hands In Very Bad Places and Empathetic Kermit- Like Hulk Dude. Oh, and the...vampire who isn't Spike. He's the boss, rather than Tony Danza, I hear. Oh well, I can hardly expect Cole to remember all my co workers' names, so I hope he's not mad that I can't remember his. Well, he can remember Jason, and my blinding hatred thereof, but that's a story for another day. The bottom line, here, people, is that my husband is in a crisis and I have no idea in hell what to do. Am panicking. Am panicking. Whoa, Phoebe, keep it together.
Ooooh. I want a corn dog. Wait, no, that's the little girl's puppy over there. I have to buy and sell shares of stock! Damn, businessman, don't you have any actual feelings? This is the last time I post with my laptop in the library while trying to research. Wait, why is there a puppy in the library?
No, no, must FOCUS!!! Right after I find a vegetarian corn dog My empathy makes me too susceptible to abandoning my work and suddenly starting to frolick around reshelving the nonfiction, all because I happened to be standing too close to the librarian, who was SO in need of a good shagging...and then this could lead to an accidental good shagging in the 873.4 row with the FedEx boy delivering the latest Harlequin Romance novels...and Oh my God. I ramble when I'm stressed.
Okay, girl. Calm down. Calm down. Do not eat the corn dog. Save your husband.
And calm down.
Ooooh. I want a corn dog. Wait, no, that's the little girl's puppy over there. I have to buy and sell shares of stock! Damn, businessman, don't you have any actual feelings? This is the last time I post with my laptop in the library while trying to research. Wait, why is there a puppy in the library?
No, no, must FOCUS!!! Right after I find a vegetarian corn dog My empathy makes me too susceptible to abandoning my work and suddenly starting to frolick around reshelving the nonfiction, all because I happened to be standing too close to the librarian, who was SO in need of a good shagging...and then this could lead to an accidental good shagging in the 873.4 row with the FedEx boy delivering the latest Harlequin Romance novels...and Oh my God. I ramble when I'm stressed.
Okay, girl. Calm down. Calm down. Do not eat the corn dog. Save your husband.
And calm down.