soapboxdiner

I'm off to the Islands

I have a job interview this morning way out on the Rich Man's Island. Bill Gates lives on this island. Hell, he probably owns this island. The job is at Rich Man's Island Golf and Country Club.

Please allow me just one solitary moment of snark, wherein I question this being a good fit. Shhh! Don't tell Karma I said that. What it doesn't know is better for my check book.

Eh, maybe they'll have lots of rich men looking for a hot little mama who prefers the au natural look complete with no makeup, hair swept up in a pony tail or other such high fashion hair statements, and a pair of comfy, broken-in jeans. Maybe those rich old men looking for a girl who's keeping it casual will sweep me away to Greek isles. (Heh, I just typed Freek isles. I'd be okay with going there, too.)

Or maybe not. Maybe they'll just want to pay my ass on a regular basis. I'm open to whatever the universe sees fit to send me. Well, unless it's not what I want the universe to send me - then I'll probably curse the universe and Rich Man's Island for keeping the little people down. Eh, whatever works.

7:29 am - 11.02.02
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