But it's a sad day in the salt mines of Tarsus. I had to vacate my big beautiful spacey office and move in with the boss. UGH! Not that I mind "the boss". I just HATE his office! It's so dang small and full of junk (he's such a pack rat!).
For the last two days I've done nothing but clean and move crap out. Most of it was empty boxes WTF??? A box would have like one sample in it and be taking up a whole shelf. So I pitched the box and saved the sample. I also managed to re-arrange things so HE had more room. I swear. The guys are cringing when they walk by. (The boss is out of town and he knew I was moving in). I'm like "how can he complain? He's got twice as much room and I didn't throw anything away that wasn't trash!" (Trash being empty boxes, packing material, stuff that was 10 years old and WELL past it's expiration date.)
I let him keep most of his "junk" - and I consolidated the "common area" so that there is more room for his junk there, too. It's not so bad. Not like I pitched anyting important! Sheesh! If he weren't such a pack rat I wouldn't have even been forced to do THAT!
HA! Now he's called and is worried that his crap is gone. Dude - don't piss me off or I'll toss it all on a skid and send it to the WAREHOUSE. Out of sight, outta mind!
Ah, so, anyway! It's clean. And I've absconded with the CD player so we have music - GOOD music (read: disco) blaring in the hallway. Everyone is like "there goes the neighborhood". Dry up! LOL!
Mr. Wicked has been eerily quiet lately and I think I've finally realized why. His "rival" has returned in a manner of speaking. The Sweet One has been trying to get my attention but since he's so well, SWEET, he didn't want to just slap me upside the head to do it. He just waited until I was ready to listen.
Now it's his turn to speak and Mr. Wicked is not happy about it. He's become sullen and tossing that gorgeous head of his around but he can't make The Sweet One leave (and he knows there'd be hell to pay from ME). All he can do is scowl darkly as he tosses his head and preen until The Sweet One finishes speaking to me. And what he's telling me makes me cry.
UGH! Why did this have to be so - sad in the end??? I just HATE it. I don't want to write it. But with each passing day the Sweet One grows more insistent that I DO write what HE wants and I know I'm not going to be able to resist him for long. His sustained increasing pressure is so much harder to deal with than Mr. Wicked's demands and the like. Probably because it DOES sneak up on you. Hmmmm.
I'm thinking that if I get away for the weekend that maybe that will help me clear my head. This whole thing is making me very sad. So bogus! I mean I logically KNOW what has to happen but that doesn't mean I have to LIKE it, right? Kinda makes me wonder what THE readers will think.
The sad thing is, if it were ME in that situation, I would have probably done things much differently from the beginning. But, alas, that story is not about ME, it's about three individuals in a lust triangle. But I can't let certain things happen because then I would lose respect for the characters and we can't have THAT!
Of course, Mr. Wicked only wants HIS way - he doesn't give a crap about logic, continuity or anything else. The Sweet One, well, he wants to be a hero and the Lucky femme caught between them just wants her life back. What a tangled web we weave!
The Rogue Goddess saw shadows dancing at 10:19 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home