the smack factor

I can smell the ocean from my nasty futon.  I can not WAIT to be at the beach with Factor’s little family and have Factor NOT have to work and actually get to play with me.  OK, more like i get to play with him - I think we all know guys don’t think the way women do in a “why can’t I see you more” sort of way. That’s fine, I get it.   Anyplap, I don’t know how I’m going to blog from the ocean.. but I also hope that doesn’t mean you all and I will be disconnected for over a week.  Call me nerdy, but I gotta write.  Even in bed I think of things I could write about.  I need to be strong about this alli nonsense while on vac, too.  It’s always hard being out to eat with everyone having a good time and I have to REALLY think about what to order, how it’s cooked, what to get on the side, blah blah blah.  It makes me self conscious, but according to Factor “that’s your hang up, no one else cares.”  So I should just suck it up.

I’m off to make my lovely egg white breakfast, scrounge up the last coffee grounds for a weak cup of coffee, and then start packing.  I want to leave enough time to head over to the West Village and maybe grab a really cute white dress.  Or maybe I’ll hit 5th ave and then grab a little lunchy with David Factor.  Who knows.  When you’re unemployed, your choices are endless.