Teenage Lobotomy in Open Diary 2001-2018 (Pre-Prosebox)

Today I’m wearing the greatest jeans. They are super skinny, drainpipe legs, ultra low waist, and kinda slouchy in the butt area (think Joey Ramone).

I really like ‘em…but they are so different from the mainstream boot-cut heiney-huggers I normally wear that they throw me off when I catch a glimpse of myself in the full-length mirrors that line the stairwell here at work. It’s freaky enough to see yourself walking up and down those stairs, but when you’re clad in garb that throws you back to your teenage years, it’s a little unsettling.

Speaking of teenage years and all things high school, I’m still researching the background on the non-invitation to Renee’s party on Sunday. I have had one phone conversation with Paul since I spoke with him early Sunday morning, and it was really just a quickie when I snuck out of the office yesterday for a sanity break. We never discussed anything remotely Renee-like.

BUT…I did call Jill, who is a good friend of Renee’s and told her that we need to catch up with each other. She agreed, but had to cut the call short because she was with someone else who was taking her to get her car out of the shop.

So. The Renee issue is still a mystery. Not that I’m worried about it by any means. But it’s still an open case.

And speaking of gossip, I think I made a huge mistake yesterday. I happened to be on the phone with a old, old boss of mine from years ago. She’s the one who knew everything (and I do mean everything) about my last boyfriend, LDL. She’s the one who saw me melt down a couple of times in the office. She’s also the one who excused me early from work on Wednesdays so that I could go see the shrink. She knows all—good and bad. There’s just something about her that makes me just open up and spill…I suppose it’s because she eggs me on.

I hadn’t talked to her in months, so she called to catch up on my life. And for whatever reason, the topic of Jeff came up (he’s the guy I used to work with that I met up with in London). She was digging for scoop, so I obliged and told her about the sparkling water incident. You know, when we took turns sucking sparkling water out of each other’s belly buttons? Uh huh.

Now why did I do that? I have a sneaking suspicion that it’s going to get back to him. Or possibly his wife. Lovely.

And it’s funny, after I talked to her I got a mini-flurry of calls from old buds back at the old workplace. You don’t think she’s talkin? Gee….I don’t know!

Even a call from another headhunter! And that spurred me to get back to the original one with the dream job. I know it’s been weeks, but [shame] even though I started to update my resume, I never finished and sent it in. Things are starting to look a little funky around here again, so I called HH#1 back and asked if the job was still open. We played a few rounds of phone tag. But I’m bound and determined to at least check this job out. It really is a dream job….it sounds like it’s very over my head, but then again….so did this job. And come to think of it, so did the job before this!

Yes. Time to get off my ass.

On that note.

Lots of slouchy-jean clad butt to shake.

Out.