Tuesday, February 24, 2004

God, I have a column to write, I have a million clients to see, I have a fucking video-interview for this reality TV show that wants me (and I just know they aren't going to offer me enough money, damn it), I have workshops to plan, the house looks like a bomb went off, and I still have a sore throat from breathing in smoke at Club Medusa Saturday night. Pity me, the frazzled Mistress.

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