Susan is currently bereft of all inspiration. Her feet hurt. She wasted twenty minutes this morning trying to find the proper necklace for her outfit. Twenty minutes.
Then she got all mad and threw stuff out.
She got her hair cut then went food shopping and bought more goat cheese. She left her notes for the substantive sex talk at work. It's scheduled for the weekend so she'll create an outline from memory.
Her neck gets in the way when she looks down. She wonders why people read a Kindle when they could read a book. She can't even keep up with her pals' blogs.