Transplanted Life
Tuesday, July 22, 2003
 
And just when I think my life can't get any worse, it rains. Not for long, but hard, and right during the time I'm going to Michelle's work. I'm almost at her job when my umbrella somehow gets tangled up in someone elses and ripped out of my hands. Of course, when I bend over to pick it up, some guys walking by opt to whistle at Michelle's ass.

It's embarrassing, but I'm not mad at them. I mean, Michelle's got a great ass; I'd whistle. Not that I feel any pride in it or anything, either. I probably just looked angry because I'm somewhere I don't want to be dealing with frustrating crap and irrationally thinking that if not for Michelle, this wouldn't have happened (because, you know, it never rains in Seattle and I've never dropped something before). I tell myself that, to just deal with it the same way I would if I were still in my own body.

Of course, that's before someone bumps into me/Michelle and I fall flat on her face because her breasts are big enough to throw off my balance.

Fortunately, I'm at the office failry early and there's some time to wash up. Still, it's a good thing I did get around to shaving Michelle's legs last night because there's a big run in the pantyhose; the cardigan also needs to dry out. BioSoft's receptionist doesn't look terribly professional today. If this had happened to Michelle, I suppose she might feel embarrassed, but what the hell do I care if people think she looks like a disheveled slob? It's not my reputation, and if she were worried about hers, she would have shown more care in choosing who she has live her life. I do feel the need to apologize to Frank Towne (the boss) when he arrives, though - it's not his fault someone replaced his employee with... well, me.

I would really like to know whether Dimitri is always trying to hit on Michelle every time he walks past or whether it's just today, for reference, though. I think by not cutting him down nastily at 9am, I may have brought it on myself - considering how harsh she was to Kurt on Friday, I can't imagine what she says to this overweight Lithuanian dude.

-Martin
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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net