Power Lunch

I am plowing through my lunch. Last day of toil in Chinatown and finished my note-taking early, so am utterly jumping on the next train home to start the weekend early. Tomorrow is going to be a super Saturday--Art on the Green, a craft fair in my old town, with the Dad, maybe Mum too (I am absolutely making them drive by my old elementary school, which, Amy pointed out, looks like Crunchem Hall.); and then I'm going to a matinee of 'The Nanny Diaries' with the thirteen year-old I "baby-sit." Oh my god, and then we're gonna like, get our nails done, and go to Abercrombie, and like, stuff ourself with french fries at the diner.

NOT.

Speaking of thirteen year-olds, I reread 'Walk Two Moons' yesterday/today. I loved it (OHMYGOD) in seventh grade, but hadn't read it since, so when Kate (she's 9) and I were at the library last week, I stumbled upon it and checked it out (along with 'Robinson Crusoe,' 'Horseradish and Other Bitter Truths,' and 'The Wonderful Story of Henry Sugar...' I've been reading a lot of juvenile fiction lately). I gulped it down on the train, and during lunch yesterday, and after dinner, and finished it on the train this morning. I don't remember it being so utterly, heartbreakingly sad, but I knew it wasn't exactly lollipops. I told myself this morning, Maybe don't bring this on the train. You don't want anyone to see you cry like a sissy. But I brought it anyway, and I cried, sissy that I am, but I'm sure no one saw. I was completely vigilant.

Upon reflection, a few things I've learned from this job:

1. I am not cut out to be a personal assistant.

2. I need to buy more CDs.

3. I am utterly underread.

Also, but unrelated, I bought Stella perfume. (!)

To New Jersey!