Office Hours [Wednesday]
Irene had never had an office, not like this. Sure, she'd had her home office, where she'd mostly maintained her website (the bits she didn't outsource, anyway), but that had mostly been a glorified boudoir with a laptop.
Not, of course, that this wasn't as well, or wouldn't be. Irene was tucked up in her chair with this season's Jonathan Adler catalog -- no relation -- and eagerly thumbing through the pages and occasionally marking lamps she liked.
If there was anything odd about her today, really, it was that she had a simple, black umbrella open and stuck through the back of her chair. The reason behind that was simple, of course -- there was already a pool of ice water on the floor (she'd taken off her shoes and tucked up her feet) from one occurrence, and she wasn't going to sit through a second day of having wet hair and arranging dry cleaning, thank you.
[open door, open office hours, sp likely!]
Not, of course, that this wasn't as well, or wouldn't be. Irene was tucked up in her chair with this season's Jonathan Adler catalog -- no relation -- and eagerly thumbing through the pages and occasionally marking lamps she liked.
If there was anything odd about her today, really, it was that she had a simple, black umbrella open and stuck through the back of her chair. The reason behind that was simple, of course -- there was already a pool of ice water on the floor (she'd taken off her shoes and tucked up her feet) from one occurrence, and she wasn't going to sit through a second day of having wet hair and arranging dry cleaning, thank you.
[open door, open office hours, sp likely!]