Even Evil Laywers Have to Eat
Who: Lilah and Wesley
Where: The Grocery Store
When: Afternoonish?
What: Paying people to do this means it not getting done right, you know?
Status: Complete
Lilah picked up a can of some sort of vegetable and dumped it into her cart after only giving it a cursory glace. Sure, she should probably be thinking about the large amount of sodium that companies put into those things, but she didn't have time to deal with fresh vegetables. Hell, she barely had time to pop a frozen dinner into the microwave most nights, but she at least tried to get some sort of nutrition out of her meals. She was probably going to die some horrible death again, but it wasn't going to be from some lack of some vitamin, that was for damn sure.
A smirk spread across her face as she continued to walk through the canned stuff aisle. She could pay someone else to do this for her, and she wouldn't have to show up to some random food mart once a week to pick up food so that she could actually eat at home for a few nights. It would be far less embarrassing. People of her level at the firm didn't both buying their own stuff. She was sure some of the real higher ups probably had some sort of upgrade in them that caused them to not have to eat, anymore. She'd rather take her tiny bits of normal wherever she could get them, thank you.
Not like she was going to get it from her work. She signed people's death warrants every day and did her best to put it out of her mind before going on to the next contract. It was getting harder and harder to do, though. For the first time in her life, she was truly hating who she was. Lilah Morgan didn't think she'd have ever seen that day come. She was Queen Bitch, after all. There was no looking back for her type. Besides, it wasn't like she could undo it, anyway. No use wishing for what can't come true.
Apparently some of these cans had been here for longer than she had been around on this earth, because she had to wipe some dust off her hand onto her jeans. Just because she was doing her own shopping didn't mean that she had to look like every other soccer mom in this place. She still took care about her appearance. Another pair of designer jeans that she couldn't remember purchasing, a red silk blouse, and a pair of tasteful yet very expensive flats. Like she would ever go out without looking her best. You never knew who you were going to see.
Where: The Grocery Store
When: Afternoonish?
What: Paying people to do this means it not getting done right, you know?
Status: Complete
Lilah picked up a can of some sort of vegetable and dumped it into her cart after only giving it a cursory glace. Sure, she should probably be thinking about the large amount of sodium that companies put into those things, but she didn't have time to deal with fresh vegetables. Hell, she barely had time to pop a frozen dinner into the microwave most nights, but she at least tried to get some sort of nutrition out of her meals. She was probably going to die some horrible death again, but it wasn't going to be from some lack of some vitamin, that was for damn sure.
A smirk spread across her face as she continued to walk through the canned stuff aisle. She could pay someone else to do this for her, and she wouldn't have to show up to some random food mart once a week to pick up food so that she could actually eat at home for a few nights. It would be far less embarrassing. People of her level at the firm didn't both buying their own stuff. She was sure some of the real higher ups probably had some sort of upgrade in them that caused them to not have to eat, anymore. She'd rather take her tiny bits of normal wherever she could get them, thank you.
Not like she was going to get it from her work. She signed people's death warrants every day and did her best to put it out of her mind before going on to the next contract. It was getting harder and harder to do, though. For the first time in her life, she was truly hating who she was. Lilah Morgan didn't think she'd have ever seen that day come. She was Queen Bitch, after all. There was no looking back for her type. Besides, it wasn't like she could undo it, anyway. No use wishing for what can't come true.
Apparently some of these cans had been here for longer than she had been around on this earth, because she had to wipe some dust off her hand onto her jeans. Just because she was doing her own shopping didn't mean that she had to look like every other soccer mom in this place. She still took care about her appearance. Another pair of designer jeans that she couldn't remember purchasing, a red silk blouse, and a pair of tasteful yet very expensive flats. Like she would ever go out without looking her best. You never knew who you were going to see.