Monday, Nov. 25, 2002 - 6:19 p.m.

Sunday � 11/24

11:45 a.m. Even though I was supposed to visit one of my clients I had planned to blow it off in an attempt to spend the day sprawled on the couch in my most comfortable Calvin�s eating everything in sight which sadly consists of Cheddar Cheese Quakes and Strawberry Yogurt Zone Bars and guzzling Diet Sprite while relentlessly channel surfing past dozens of high-brow to low-brow to no-brow programs before finally settling on some sports game guaranteed to put me into a Sunday afternoon coma/heaven.

12:35 p.m. When the phone rang I felt a mixture of relief and anger. Relief from the tedium of Sunday afternoon television and anger that I had to move more than six inches to reach the phone. The Client asks, "Hey, are you coming or not?" Translation: Me me me me me me. "I�m just walking out the door," I replied. Translation: I�ve just got 45 minutes remaining of this Trading Spaces episode then I�ve got to shower and walk the dogs so I�m figuring I�ll be there �round 5:00.

Monday � 11/25

9:35 a.m. When I arrived at work this morning I was greeted by temporary secretary Kitty Bukkake�s smiling face. With Knoxville on vacation Miss Kitty wanted to play secretary just so she could meet The Boss and assess for herself his level of mental illness.

11:03 a.m. I decide I like having Kitty, a member of my urban tribe, working in my office. It makes me feel that the world can be a very small place, that the world can offer comfort zones that I can retreat into when I need nurturing or feel the need to replenishing the parts of myself that make me feel good about myself, that day to day living is conquerable and that feelings whether obsessive or neurotic or deviant or destructive or irrational are okay as long as you don�t let members of your urban tribe find out that you harbor them. Anyway, to quote Martha Stewart, having Kitty here "is a good thing" even though I know she�s stealing office supplies.

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