On the balcony
Knowing now that it is not hard indeed to hold multiple simultaneous jobs (and of course, mine are all more impressive) I am no longer intrigued by Derek in that sense. We likable personalities can just go right on taking the world by storm, harvesting those pearls. My birthstone. The world is my birthright.
So yes, there are two more cute boys at my jobs. One is Woodrow, a Cold Stone employee with sloppy brown hair and pretty blue eyes. The other is Miles, a more wholesome kid at the office. One of the newer reps, who I've been taken in by on our phone conversations (all business-related) by his eagerness to work and personality. He is called Miles Makdisi. This Sunday I will not be able to work at Cold Stone because of a division meeting we are having in San Jose. My story with Vector is quite interesting. Chris, my disctrict manager at the tender age of 22, may be in love with me. At the least I intrigue him. This summer has been great for my personal development. I blame (credit?) Whitney, my BFF, for the smoking habit, which indeed gives me more social flexibility, and the rest was all my sheer improbable luck which has brought me so many people and situations. To even begin to track everything in detail makes me exhausted, but I know I must or else I will implode. So... why do I have several jobs? The money will be nice. The people skills even nicer. I would just like to say at once that I am very ovrwhelmed right now by Earth's population, and it depresses me the most that I will be fighting a losing battle by attempting my one true goal, which is to meet everybody and learn everything. I need to find my hidey-hole niche in life and stick to one thing at wh ich I can truly excel. In other words, pick something to miss out on everything else for.
Now, everyone believes (or desires) themselvs to be something extraordinary, but, following the concept that "everyone is different," that is simply not possible. Now, at a theoretical writers' block, what is there to do next?
So yes, there are two more cute boys at my jobs. One is Woodrow, a Cold Stone employee with sloppy brown hair and pretty blue eyes. The other is Miles, a more wholesome kid at the office. One of the newer reps, who I've been taken in by on our phone conversations (all business-related) by his eagerness to work and personality. He is called Miles Makdisi. This Sunday I will not be able to work at Cold Stone because of a division meeting we are having in San Jose. My story with Vector is quite interesting. Chris, my disctrict manager at the tender age of 22, may be in love with me. At the least I intrigue him. This summer has been great for my personal development. I blame (credit?) Whitney, my BFF, for the smoking habit, which indeed gives me more social flexibility, and the rest was all my sheer improbable luck which has brought me so many people and situations. To even begin to track everything in detail makes me exhausted, but I know I must or else I will implode. So... why do I have several jobs? The money will be nice. The people skills even nicer. I would just like to say at once that I am very ovrwhelmed right now by Earth's population, and it depresses me the most that I will be fighting a losing battle by attempting my one true goal, which is to meet everybody and learn everything. I need to find my hidey-hole niche in life and stick to one thing at wh ich I can truly excel. In other words, pick something to miss out on everything else for.
Now, everyone believes (or desires) themselvs to be something extraordinary, but, following the concept that "everyone is different," that is simply not possible. Now, at a theoretical writers' block, what is there to do next?