I've had a frustrating day. Not only am I trying to do a new-to-me job covering a whole lot of aspects of business I've never dealt with before, they've put me in an open cube right behind the row of manager offices, so I can't even sneak in a teeny little online window to surf here and relieve some stress.
Yes, the diamond shoes are pinching, but my frustration level is dreadfully low at the moment.
I haven't seen an execution of dress shorts that has made me rethink my initial reaction of "No!"
Back away from Zappos, Aimée. Nothing good comes of it.
SHOES COME FROM IT! Shoes = Good.
GRUMP. I just opened up the plastic page protectors which I will be required to use in my portfolio, and... they're attached to each other. What the what? Why would I want that? If I'm putting papers in a three-ring binder, what purpose could there be to not being able to have each page lie flat?
Ironic much? Brooke Shields has her baby.
I certainly hope poor Katie doesn't suffer from PPD.
I certainly hope poor Katie doesn't suffer from PPD.
No joke. Marrying Tom is bad enough...
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