After long break, have continued reading single-girl-in-the-big-city books. Am in middle of the Bridget Jones sequel, which has led to turning my inner monologue from actual sentences to Bridget-type fragments. Obviously. In thinking over the number of these books that I've read, have realized that job does not equal life. Job simply equals distraction from friends, boys, sleep, and television. Love my job, but cannot think of it as career. Only wish for a Mr. Darcy (Mark or Fitzwilliam) to distract me from work. Or, you know, even a Hugh-Grant-as-Daniel-Cleaver would work for me. Mmm, wet Hugh Grant.
Birthday was perfectly lovely. Had an excellent time, and have not been that tipsy in quite some time. Plus, new DVD player v.g. Only wish more friends could've been there. Too many friends live too far away. Now am contemplating where I want to be taken for lunch. Tough decision. Too many restaurants near office.
Oh, and happy Guy Fawkes Day!
Current song in my head:
"It's Raining Men"