It's been a terrible Monday: Screwed up the boss's flight out of SIN today; it was only through his infallible good luck with all things concerning travel that I managed to get him not only in the class he wants, but also his preferred seat.
In his harangue, he cited, once again, The Devil Wears Prada, which, to him illustrates the epitome of what P.A. should be, but which is a caveat against selling out and losing oneself to me.
It's obvious I'm really not cut out to be a P.A.; prolly will tender when he returns from Milan next month.
Doc drew 10 cc today, remarking I have "good veins ... unlike other girls", but that my blood is so bad "[a] vampire won't want it". =|
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