The best part about a great novel is the feeling it provokes: pure ecstasy upon sliding under the covers just to spend more time with your main character. As I mentioned in my last post, I am knee-deep, heart-deep, soul-deep in Erica Jong-isms.
That means I'm reading about sex, a little drugs and more sex. More than that though, I'm reading words that describe the inner workings and insecurities of almost every woman that has felt love and lost it, felt broken but found strength to put the pieces back together again.
She's just so damn delicious, this Erica is. Every time I pick up one of her Isadora Wing novels, I'm ridiculously hooked.
I am almost at the finish line. Not in the book, but in completing my first week of work! I must say I'm loving it so far. I feel useful, I feel excited when I wake up, and I feel sort of, dare I say it, happy when I'm there. I am the type who waits for the other shoe to drop, so I am dreading the day where I wake up and wish I was still receiving unemployment checks but hey, here's to hoping I never have to write that post. Perhaps this is just what the doctor ordered.I'm putting a lot of pressure on myself to really prove myself to the CEO, as his assistant. My ego tells me that at 26, I should not be an assistant anymore but that's simply not the case. I have a feeling in my gut that there's something here, something good. It feels kind of right. He's a cool dude with a great work ethic. And he's kind. Not many high-powered executives are. At least not the ones I've been in contact with. As soon as I iron out the kinks in learning my new responsibilities, I feel like I'll be able to let out a big sigh of relief. I'm still kind of holding my breath.
Dare I say it? This is the most alive I've felt in a couple months. We all want two things in life, at least I think so: To be loved and to be of use.