Dear Diary...

In spirit of desire to write more than takeout food order on a daily basis, have decided to institute diary-esque entries into this here space. Seems like a good idea as I've been a total slacker lately, and find myself wondering a.) why I take a writing workshop when all I do is read other peoples' stuff and b.) why my muse hates me ...

With that in mind, shall make at least one entry per day, staring this week. So, without further adieu:

Monday:

... wait. Oh shit. Bloody hell! Gr.... heh...

Tuesday:

Technically started Tuesday at the tail end of Monday near the bottom of a bottle of merlot, in conjunction with mindless Irish cheese and French bread snacking. Must stop all of the above ... now ... I swear...

Second start to the day wasn't much better as it involved me riding a trolley/train combo to the 'burbs to spring my car from the repair shop. After approximately six months of driving on an expired New York inspection I decided it was high time I give in to the fact that I live in Pa. and my East Village sex/drugs/rock'n'roll lifestyle fantasy has been replaced by WaWa soft pretzels and tourists blocking my path near the Liberty Bell, for at least the near future. 

And so, after attempting to trade my first born for the keys to the newly fixed shiny happy legal nearly new-ish VW, (They explained they don't accept first borns as payment as they are generally more trouble than they are worth, what with not being able to feed themselves nor change a transmission. I concurred and remarked it's probably a good thing i've never actually spawned one.) I hit the road. 

Approximately five miles later the check engine light came back on.

Have thus decided that rather than living on Top Ramen and cheap coffee I will simply buy a roll of black electrical tape. Like wailing, grinding and clanking noises indicating car needs fixed, which I generally rectify by turning stereo up, annoying long-term check engine light isn't on if I can't see it...

And again, even though I lost two hours of my life a few weeks ago getting pressured to buy a new one, vowed to never, ever ever ever ever buy a Volkswagen again. (Although, am inclined to write letter to VW of America commending them for recent ad campaign featuring truth in advertising: they may call it a Fast, but it's still a gremlin, and yep, all new VW's come with them... you have been warned...)

Following Schuykill adventure got to work, drowned in e-mails, responded to HR that yes, I would be very interested in Weight Watchers At Work (after reading previous message about leftover cookies in cafeteria, getting daily cardio in by rushing across building and knocking down CEO [which also doubled as rollergirl practice, right?] and snatching four cookies, two brownies and a bunch of grapes, which I used to disable sugar-crazed co-workers in pursuit).

Drowned in more e-mails, surfed eBay for going-away present for dept. manager, ate lunch and brushed teeth. (The latter turning into own personal celebration after using toothbrush from makeup bag. It seems the glitter from Sunday night's bout opened up, and only just now, upon return trip to loo, did I understand coworkers' comments regarding my "exceptionally bright smile.") 

Vowed to come back in next life as a hermit ...

Or a Fast...