My inner eye

I have an interview at the new-age shop tomorrow. Lily has been mocking me upon discovery of this and the fact that I must try to summon my inner eye and connect with my higher self. Despite her wearing a bandana and constantly pretending someone called ‘mother earth’ is on the phone for me, I’ve still managed to reach deep, semi-conscious levels of meditation that feel much like sleep.

Indecent thoughts of the local law enforcer are possibly interfering with my summoning of the gift. Having not spotted his perfectly toned bod ALL weekend, has had the effect of propelling him to sex-god status, causing my inner eye to become extremely distracted. To combat this, I have decided to only drink herbal tea until the interview, thus cleansing my impure mind.

Speaking of impurity, Eric is safe and well clear of any cliffs. He only wanted to change arrangements for Lily this weekend.

Lily the Snitch

It’s possible I no longer possess decent-man dating qualities. I spent almost the entire of Friday morning reliving the horrible date and have now made a resolve – I will never subject myself to that again. Therefore, I need to consider, either celibacy, lesbianism or nunnery.

To make things worse, Lily has informed me that she’s given ALL the sordid details of my date to Paul, who she’s obviously mistaken for the dating police. I must stop that child playing in the street.

As far as jobs go, a friend of mine has told me of a vacancy at a new-age thingamajiggy shop, I’ve always wondered if I have The Gift.....if I have a connection with the other-side. Somehow, I sense they only want gifted ones, so I’ll give them a call.

I still can’t get Eric. The cliff thing would be really sad.

Daniel the touchy feely jerk!

Despite angelic and lulling accounting-type qualities, tall Dan also exhibited a very, very dirty streak. Put bluntly, he’s a groper. If he was somewhat shorter and had a set of handcuffs or a riot outfit, then I might have been able to tolerate the following:

Grown man drooling
Speaking to my ample and perky bosoms as if they were the only ones in the room.
Making weird and spooky tongue contortions in an attempt to sexually lure me or the waitress.
Attempting to spoon HIS dessert into my mouth.
Him loudly referring to his manhood as “the probe” (who does that?).

As such, will now only refer to him as dirty Dan or filthy fucker.

Eric phoned and left a message, have not been able to reach him yet - maybe I won’t need to, because he’s fallen off a cliff or something (that would be sad).

Hopefully if he fell he left his wallet behind, because the bills are mounting up and I have now taken to ignoring the phone or getting Lily to answer in a fake Chinese accent. I will definitely need to look for a job this weekend, or find a non-perverted rich man.