BLIND DATE

I started my new job last week with such anxiety and trepidation.

Why, you ask? Not usually my style, you say.

Not to worry, it wasn’t the: Can’t Sleep at Night Tossing and Turning, Anx-Trepid variety, it was more like the: Butterflies in Stomach Blind Date, kind. You know the one I’m talking about, the one with the unrelenting questions swirling around your head: What’s he going to look like? Am I going to get along with him? Will this be fun?

Well…

“He” looks good, all stylish and glossy with lots of money to throw around. No more scrimpy and saving for essentials. Whatever my little heart desires to make me comfortable, he provides. He’s attractive and alluring… he’s got all the right people working for him… high caliber specialists, they are. I read his script… it was sweet and tender. He’s got talent.

He promises to put my name up in lights for all my efforts and dedication (or at least rolling credits on the big screen). How courteous. I think I’ll get along with him just fine.

And the fun bit? I intend to have fun. I’ve put in a lot of hard work and long hours on this date, but he’s made it real easy by surrounding me with interesting and lighthearted people (all but one... who was sent by SATAN). Yes, I do believe this date is headed towards Fun City.