February, 2015

Feb 1st, 2015

The gods must be inhumane.  Ethan Baker came over to my apartment early this morning to visit Maxine.  They made mention that they were going to travel over to his house to watch the Super Bowl, but before they could trot away,  snow started to fall at a rigorous rate.   Within a blink of an eye, a day that I had dedicated to watching Oscar movies with Tamar became a day in which I was locked up in the trysting arena of two garish lovers.

A lesser person would have orchestrated a highly technical string of questions which would have fooled Maxine into admitting that she currently has another boyfriend.   Instead, while they obscenely snuggled in front of the television, I decided to call the slender-fingered Eric from my office and ooh and ahh over every word he muttered.

 

Feb 2nd, 2015

Yesterday’s blizzard has snowbound the entire city.  Most offices and businesses are closed.  Ethan Baker, unable to walk through the snow due to his broken hip and femur, is now permanent house guest until our streets become plowed and his father can pick him up.  And of course, Maxine, has no reason to leave since she has no job or motivation.  Hence, I’m trapped in a receptacle of filth in every sense of the word!

Filth definition number one: Disgusting dirt.

The living room couldn’t have any more candy wrappers, soda cans, or empty delivery containers than what is currently strewn in it.  I swear neither Maxine nor Ethan have ever heard of a garbage can!  Further, it seems as though Maxine is so territorial that she is marking her lair by spreading her dirty laundry over every square inch of the living room.  When she moved in, I set a clothes hamper behind the couch for her dirty undergarments.  I peeked inside it today and it was empty.  I’m on the verge of taking all her clothes and throwing them all into the street for the bums and beggars.

Filth definition number two: Obscene and offensive language or printed material.

Ethan and Maxine are addicted to watching YouTube comedy videos.  It would seem the youth of today have a vocabulary that spans no further than the “eff word” to express the highest quality or degree of an action or noun or describe anything marvelous, outstanding, or incredulous!

Finally, filth definition number three: corrupt behavior; decadence.

I woke up to the unmistakable sounds of a light moaning and a rhythmic crinkling which could only be made by two shameless people copulating on an inflatable mattress.  Truly, the rest of the day was marred by this abomination.

 

Feb 3rd, 2014

Being snow bound in an apartment with Maxine and Ethan Baker, while detrimental to my psyche, has renewed my vigor to continue forward with Expresso.  I must get back on my road to riches in order that I ensure I am never, ever trapped in a one bedroom abode with brazen lovers ever again!

I admit, I was still confused about moving forward.  On the one hand, I am completely enchanted with my Expresso idea and truly feel that it is my best chance of making all my entrepreneurial dreams come true.  Yet, I am still sore that my nemesis, the horrible Christy Calm, stole the stickers which were intended for Ohranj’s use and became the first person to ever post an Expresso.  After much deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that the hand drawn shipping labels that the vile Christy Calm posted on her Facebook page were so amateur, that they don’t really count as the first Expresso.

My first order of business is to get official, possibly even licensed, professionally printed Expresso stickers.  Only those stickers will be REAL Expressos, thus voiding Christy’s post.  In fact, if things go as planned, I’m certain that people will see the unskilled and illegible sticker in Christy’s post as a lowly attempt on her part, to knock-off my creative adhesives.

Believe me, dear blog, I learned my lesson. Once I receive the official Expresso stickers, Iris Elizabeth Cutter will be the first to post.

 

Feb 4th, 2015

I’m absolutely thrilled to be back to the Expresso drawing board!  Designing just the right sticker has elevated both my day and overall mood ten-fold.  I swear, when I returned home from the office today, it didn’t bother me, even in the slightest, that there were two open pickle jars on my dining room table.  Admittedly, it threw me for a loop.  Were Ethan and Maxine blithely unaware that they already had one pickle jar open?  At any rate, I walked to my bedroom and devoted my entire night to the creation of my treasured official Expresso label design, without thinking twice about the bacteria they were allowing to grow in not just one, but two jars of pickles, that were bought with my money.

There are so many things to consider when graphically designing.  One must always be mindful that every choice of the final image will be a visual communication about both the company and the company’s CEO.  Shapes, colors, and composition all play an integral role in the overall reflection.  Furthermore, I have the unusual task of also having to create a design that represents any and everyone that will be posting official Expressos.  This means that my stickers must be universal enough to include people from all walks of life, creeds, and social classes.

I spent all night thinking, “Who are we as humans?  What makes us tick?”

I came up with the following four truths:  power, love, spirituality, and career.   I searched high and low for a symbol that I believe encapsulates this dogma and found the exactly right,  perfect image.

 

Feb 5th, 2015

I had to have lunch with the slim-fingered Eric today.  After showing him a slight amount of interest and affection during Sunday’s Super Bowl, I have been barraged with request after request for a lunch outing.  I do hope that after this meal, I will be safe from further requests.

 

Feb 6th, 2015

My mother invited Maxine and I to join her at Paint Misbehavin’ for a session of art and intemperance.  I leapt at the opportunity to sit down with true artists in order that I pick their brain for color interpretation and design for my original Expresso stickers.  Now that I have the perfect image for the stickers, I must be certain to choose just the right font and colors.  I want Expresso brand labels that are lively, thrilling, and youthful, yet, sophisticated and professional.

Upon arriving at the art party studio I was intrigued.  The studio was warm, inviting, and relaxing enough to inspire creativity.  However, because the walls were so many different colors, I couldn’t help but wonder, “Who is the CEO?”  As I looked around, I truly only saw, Paint Misbehavin’.  The interior designer completely neglected to tell any story what-so-ever on the owner and CEO, Cindy Mueller.  Was she hiding from herself or did she just not realize that her walls were more than just decoration for a wine and painting class, but also an expression of her?

My mother and Maxine were quick to accept a glass of red and start slopping paint all over their canvases, as if the award for “Best Painting” would go to the individual that used the least amount of thought or precision.  It wasn’t long before Maxine dove into a passionate sermon about her new love Ethan Baker, causing her to paint with an abundance of crimson and violet.  I swear, by the time she finished her painting, her canvas looked like the interior of a damaged stomach, swirling with red wine and bile, an instant before regurgitation.

I was quite possibly the model pupil.  Rather than using the painting session to promote a riotous lifestyle, as my mother and Maxine, I was sober and inquisitive.  I painted blocks of colors on my canvas and then polled the staff on the emotions that stirred within when looking at each individual color.

The frosting on the night was, of course, that my mother was able to provide a ride home for Ethan Baker.  I was exhilarated that tonight would be the end of his stay at my apartment.  When Ethan exited our apartment, I was polite.   I kissed him on both cheeks as well as called him my esteemed friend, however, I was adamant that he not travel either by foot or auto until the snow fully melted.

 

Feb 7th, 2015

I cracked the code!  Thanks to last night’s lessons at Paint Misbehavin’, I was able to decide what color to make the font on my official Expresso stickers!  The color of the font shall be, IRIS on the RGB color model, Hex #5A4FCF.   Why this color didn’t instantly occur to me is beyond comprehension!

Truly, everything is coming together absolutely perfectly.  With Iris as my new signature color, I’m almost ready to order my Expresso adhesives.  I’m certain that I shall be able to order, manufacture, and have the stickers sent to me on or before March 1st.    Expresso will then be able to make it’s big launch right around March 20th, the first day of Spring.  And nothing is more symbolic of springtime than the early blossoms of the Iris!

I must get a new Iris suit skirt for the occasion.  I feel that it is my responsibility, in my new position as CEO of Expresso, to buy nice clothing and to look a certain way; distinctive.

 

Feb 8th, 2015

I spent a large part of the morning brainstorming how to master the art of networking.  Soon I will be hobnobbing with America’s best and brightest and I must make sure that I measure up to their high standards.

First, I have decided that it is absolutely essential that I carry around business cards, Expresso stickers, and my most current press clippings.  It is imperative that I find an organizing system that will allow me to produce these things, at a moments notice, as well as enable me to accept the same from others.   I have made a solemn vow to myself that I will only give as much as I take, and therefore, only take as much as I give, in order that I maintain balance in my strategic networking business plan.  I do not want to develop a reputation of a self-interested, megalomanic that is only looking to expand her own horizons right off the bat.

Secondly, I must keep my eyes and ears open for publishing opportunities.  Getting published will provide much-needed credentials to my budding entrepreneurship and will eventually lead to wide-spread acceptance into both magazines and the hearts of other leaders.   An article can lead to invitations to speak at conferences.  Being a panelist on expert business skills or even creativity in the workplace would not only be thrilling, but could exponentially grow my list of contacts.

Lastly, I must revisit the idea of getting a same-sex mentor.  A trusted female adviser, at this point, would be a godsend.

 

Feb 9th, 2015

Tamar and I traveled to the Cineplex to watch an Oscar-nominated movie today.  During the picture, I slipped away to visit the ladies restroom where, on the way, I ran into Ohranj and his ungulate girlfriend, Christy.   I know that I must look and act like a higher class citizen, especially now that I am a CEO of a budding company, but my emotions got the best of me in this unexpected rendezvous.  I couldn’t help but remark to Ohranj, “I doubt you could have found yourself a better mate than had you searched the woman’s wing for obscure and oozing venereal diseases at the mental hospital.”

They both laughed and kept walking.  That’s when I noticed that I had nacho cheese dripping down the front of my shirt.  This was truly the last thing that I needed in my life, especially, five measly days before the treasured holiday of St. Valentine.

 

Feb 10th, 2015

I received a call from Mary Kay collections department today.  I promised I would send at least $300 by Friday.   I then sent my mother an invoice for the same amount for housing Maxine.  I swear, I have never been so worried in my life.  If Mary Kay could only give me two more months, I would repay them ten-fold with all the riches that I am sure to secure with Expresso.

To top things off, when I arrived home from work, Ethan Baker was back on the couch, snuggling with my sister.  There is no way I believe, not even for an instant, that she can maintain this double life with two men beyond Valentine’s Day.

 

Feb 11th, 2015

I received an email response regarding the invoice I sent my mother today.  The email read,

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA.”

I typed the following email back,

“Mother –

It breaks my heart and torments my soul that you can so callously laugh at my invoice all while showering your other daughter with a never-ending supply of riches.   Though I am currently in my office, I can attest, with absolute certainty that she is, at this very moment, lying atop of a practically deflated mattress, with either one of two lovers, in the center of my living room floor.  Without doubt, the mattress, overworked and coated with a thin layer of scum and projectile excretions, is only collapsed because your youngest is too lazy to even exert the energy it would take to roll over to the wall outlet and plug-in the air  pump.   Mark my words, the only reason that she has become a beached whale is because YOU have enabled this to happen.  All the while, your eldest, is working her fingers to the bone to become a productive and successful member of society.  Your snicker at a paltry $300 request for rent has me wondering if there is any love left for me in a heart that is overflowing with love and admiration for Maxine.

I wonder what your husband, my father, would think of such inequality?”

I really hate to threaten to reveal to my father that my mother loaned Maxine over $5000 in order to keep her from being legally evicted, but what choice did I have?  Sometimes, lessons in life come at a literal cost.

 

Feb 12th, 2015

It seems my email to my mother worked as she stopped by my office today and dropped off $300.  She inquired if I wanted to accompany her to lunch.  After careful thought, I answered in the affirmative, but not without pretending to be extremely occupied.  I stated, if it wouldn’t be too much trouble for her and if she wanted to run out and bring something back, I would be available to dine with her in a conference room.   I then subtly requested for her to stop at a wonderful pizza stand called Luigi’s and get me a slice of Hawaiian pizza.

Oh, how I have missed Luigi’s!  I curse the day that I went in without my wallet, causing me a humiliation so intense that I have excluded myself from returning.  But because of my mother’s visit, I was able to again enjoy this heavenly pizza. Don’t get me wrong, my mother did everything she could to lessen the sweet and savory taste of the Canadian bacon and pineapple.   I had to listen to her go on and on about how she “honestly thought my invoice to her was a joke” and how I would “benefit greatly from a sense of humor.”  But no matter what the blabbermouth said, nothing was able to stop me from luxuriating in my sweet Luigi’s.

 

Feb 13th, 2015

There were flowers at my desk when I arrived at work today.  My heart skipped a beat in the hopes that they were from Ohranj.   Before I was able to pull my coat off and carefully pull the wrapping away from my bouquet, I envisioned a love letter so sweet and enduring that I would melt.  But when I opened the accompanying card, I saw the flowers were from Eric, my co-worker with the long, twig-like fingers.

I left the flowers on my desk and then tiptoed into the HR office, where I waited on alert to talk with Patrick.  I was petrified that Eric would see me and become overly excited about what he believes to be our beginning romance.  After ten agonizing minutes, I was finally able to meet with Patrick where I inquired about inter-office dating.  I had absolutely no interest in dating Eric and I wanted to ensure that he made no further advances.  I felt it would be best to keep Eric at bay under the cloak of company policy rather than reveal to him that I was physically repulsed by his fleshless, emaciated fingers.  While Patrick noted it was strictly forbidden for anyone to date their direct reports, he further explained it was perfectly fine to socially engage with a fellow coworker from a different department.

This news put a damper on the rest of my day, as I had to pull Eric aside and tell him that, despite his good looks and dashing personality, I would never be able to fully enjoy his company, as long as those spiny, alien-like fingers remained fastened to his slender wrists.

 

Feb 14th, 2015

This cherished day of love was turned into a completely thoughtless and vulgar expression of uncivilized behavior.  I left the house early on an Oscar movie-watching mission.  When I arrived at home hours later, I walked into my bedroom only to find Maxine and Ethan Baker in the middle of lovemaking in my bed!  I am completely revolted by their unsanitary and atrocious actions.

I immediately screamed and attempted to remove the corrupt lovers from my bed.  I tried grabbing at the soiled sheets in order to pull the two off of each other and on to the floor, but I was physically unable move their naked bodies.  My mind raced to anything that could cool the mood of the two lovebirds, so I ran to the bathroom, grabbed my hairspray and then ran back to spatter them with the uncomfortable mist.  I didn’t stop spraying them until the entirety of the bottle was dispersed on to their sweaty frames.

Maxine fought back, insisting that I was having a thermonuclear reaction over nothing, but I can hardly imagine a more heinous thing to do in a bed of another.  The worst part is that I have a overwhelming suspicion that Maxine has used my bed as her own personal brothel with Ethan as well as with her other boyfriend, on more than just this one occasion, leaving me to fester in their vile ejaculations for the last week or two.

I fear I shall have to buy a brand new mattress, box spring, sheets, and bedding sets before I can slumber comfortably ever again.  Currently, I’m shivering on the floor, doing the best I can to snuggle up in my sleeping bag and winter coat.  I would give absolutely anything to be over at Ohranj’s, curling up with him in front of his fireplace, sipping champagne.

 

Feb 15th, 2015

I wrote a long list of rules and set them on the dining room table today.  One would think that it would go without saying to keep out of my bedroom for any and all reasons, especially for sex, but when dealing with a mongrel, assuming etiquette and decorum is clearly a fool’s journey.  I swear if Maxine wasn’t using my living room, sheets, and inflatable mattress for her nightly comfort, I would wander the streets for left-behind dog droppings and leave them in her grubby burrow.

I called my mother and begged her to drag my mattress and sheets from my bed at home to my apartment.   She was uncooperative, insisting that putting my sheets in for a spin through the washer and dryer would be perfectly sanitary.  Perhaps it will disinfect the fabric, but no amount of washing or scrubbing will ever purify my mind from the vision of my sister and her countless lovers caressing each other while naked in my room.

 

Feb 16th, 2015

Well, I did it!  I designed my Expresso stickers today!  I’m completely head-over-heels in love with the design!  Truly, when I first imagined my Expresso idea, I never imagined that I could design something so sleek and zen-like, but I did it!

I placed an order for ten thousand stickers, for just under $2500.  I admit, it was more than I wanted to spend, but I am sure to make back that money in no time.  According to the website in which I ordered my lovely adhesives, my Expressos will arrive in about ten business days.  That gives me just enough time to consult with a lawyer in order that I protect my intellectual property from swindlers and other unscrupulous types that do not possess the creativity or prowess to think of their own million dollar idea.

I can’t believe it’s really happening.  I am so full of adrenaline, that my fingers are trembling and my heart throbbing!

 

Feb 17th, 2015

I spent the morning scouring the internet for the perfect iris colored skirt suit.  I found a wonderful monochromatic suit and shell.  I purchased the outfit, even though the neck is in the shape of “v”, as I am positive that I will be able to find the perfect scarf to hide my hideous, over-sized Adam’s apple.  I wish I wouldn’t think it, but truly, it is one of life’s greatest tragedies that I cannot surgically reduce the size of the protuberance prior to the opening of Expresso.

I finally made my return to arching class.  No one, not a single student or Teagan, checked in on my health, despite my sham seizure.   I realize that my epileptic fit was fake, but I was never-the-less hurt that my health went unacknowledged.  If not for the fact that archery is a symbol of style, integrity, and substance, I would have stormed out of class, never to return.

 

Feb 18th, 2015

I received an email from Eric today, requesting that I remove the flowers he sent me on Valentine’s Day off my desk.  I explained that I really didn’t want to throw the flowers away, since they were only slightly wilted, but that traveling home with them would be torturous in the the bitter cold.  I did agree however, to bring the flowers back to my residence if I was able to somehow secure a ride.  Later in the day, Eric, meekly asked me if I would like a ride home.  In any other circumstance I would have declined, but given that it was a miserable -20 degrees out, I accepted with pleasure.  I’m sure this was his plan all along.

 

Feb 19th, 2015

I found it absolutely necessary to call in sick to work today.  My neck and back are riddled in agony from sleeping on the floor.    Since it’s utterly apparent that no one, not Maxine, not Ethan Baker, least of all my parents, will buy me a new bed despite my very valid complaints, I spent the day laundering my sheets and bedding.  I further scrubbed my mattress until my knuckles bled.

Once the vile task was completed I took the train to a spy and security store in order to purchase an LED semen detection lamp.  I absolutely had to ensure complete sterility.  After carefully opening and lightly assembling the illumination device, I turned off my overhead bedroom light and scanned my mattress. The number of stains I was able to detect were beyond comprehension!  I was completely repulsed!

I ran out to the living room and insisted Maxine take a look at the atrocities she created on my bed.  Maxine insisted that UV lamps detected any kind of protein-based smears and that in all likelihood, all of the stains on my bed were caused by me, since she was only in my bed once.  I pushed her out the door as I was unable to listen to her preposterous lies.  She screamed that I was impossible to live with (her words – I know better than to end a sentence with a preposition) and then I heard her plop herself on her inflatable mattress and call Ryan, who I could only assume was her “other” boyfriend.

I picked to the box which contained my UV lamp.  Sure enough, the side of the box confessed that the lamp is capable of detecting human and pet stains such as blood, urine, and semen.  I rushed the box to the kitchen and thrust it to the bottom of our garbage can.  Only afterwards did I realize that even if it remained at the top of the trash, Maxine would never discover the proof that she was correct.  She hasn’t thrown one piece of garbage out since moving in!

I stomped back to my room, threw a sheet on the bed, and lamented for hours on exactly how my bed became so soiled.

 

Feb 20th, 2015

I made several phone calls to corporate lawyers today and set up a meeting with a lovely woman named Karen Stibbs.  After carefully analyzing her LinkedIn profile page I feel confident and secure in her legal advice.  Not only does she run her own law firm, but she was dressed quite professionally and stylishly.  I was relieved that she was able to meet on Monday, since I fully expect my Expresso stickers to arrive prior to next week Friday.  Truly, everything seems to be falling perfectly into place for a March 1st “drop”.

I checked in with Patrick at the end of the day to remind him that my last day at our office would be April 1st.  He congratulated me and smiled warmly.  Of course now that I’m on the verge of a tremendous business boom, he wants to be my best friend.  Luckily I see through his charade and mark my words, once I’m running my own company, I shall not even consider his application for employment, should his resume ever make it’s way across my desk.

After I arrived home, I continued my efforts to sanitize my mattress until Maxine introduced me to her new house guest, Ryan.  I correctly assumed that he is the man she has been seeing for a couple months, the blockhead on whom she is being unfaithful with Ethan Baker.   I can’t for the life of me imagine anyone finding him attractive, unless of one is enamored with look of a grubby bug or beetle.  Ryan is unkempt, as thin as a rake, and unfortunately, touched with bulging black eyes.  Dressing in all black truly does him no favors.

After I meeting him, I closed the door to my room, wishing I already had my Expresso stickers.  I simply cannot wait to make a name for myself!

 

Feb 21st, 2015

I woke up  3 times before 6 A.M. this morning.  I simply cannot get my mind off the arrival of my Expresso stickers!  I can only remember once being this excited in my life and it was when Ohranj invited me to the Russian Nobility Ball.

In order to keep my mind occupied, I decided to close all the curtains in my apartment and meticulously scan the perimeter with my new UV light in order to ensure that I didn’t have any kind of vermin infestation.  I’m certain, it’s only a matter of time before the cockroaches and lice that religiously follow Maxine make their way into my apartment.

Once I was done with the outer layer of my scan, I next went to the bathroom which was littered with stains around the toilet.  Is it too much to ask Maxine’s suitors to pee IN the toilet rather than around it?   I was so enraged that I walked over to Maxine’s lair, pointed my UV light directly on Ryan’s clothes pile, and snapped a photo, so she could see all the stains on Ryan’s clothes.   I then proceeded to email Maxine a copy of the picture with the following message:

“Is this REALLY the life you’ve imagined for yourself?”

I then opened all the curtains in order to flood the house with day light.  I wanted to discomfort the parasites on my living room floor as much as possible.  I tightly closed my bedroom door, then left to watch another marathon of Oscar-nominated movies with Tamar.  Enjoying the movies, however, was a lesson in futility.  All I could imagine was Maxine in my freshly bleached bed with the beetle-like Ryan soiling what took so long to sanitize.

When I arrived back home, I scanned my bed with my UV light to look for any new stains.  Thankfully, my mattress had no new blotches.

 

Feb 22nd, 2015

Well, it was finally here; the treasured day of Oscar!  In preparation for Tamar’s and my time-honored, annual get together, I concocted an elegant spread of cheese triangles, vegetable crudite with tzatziki dip, and of course, chocolate-covered peanut butter balls.  I could almost hear Maxine and Ryan’s stomach’s cry out in disappointment when I packed up the treats and headed over to Tamar’s abode.

I arrived at Tamar’s right around 1 P.M.  I promised my dear friend that I would assist her with some light clean up and decoration while we waited for other guests to show up.  It was exactly when I was assembling the disco ball that a gentleman named Brett French, Tamar’s neighbor and sports journalist, walked in and dazzled my world.

I admit, Brett French is not your classically handsome man.  His chin and smile are extremely lopsided.  It would be fair to say that if his face was divided down the middle, one side would be considered the coveted oval shape, while the other might be called a masculine square.  However, his superior fashion and dark framed glasses give him an air of prestige, making up well beyond for what he lacks in the superficial.  Furthermore, he has an excellent vocabulary and a quick wit.  I was in stitches with his play-by-play banter during the Oscars.  Truly, I thought I would never stop laughing when he made the comment, “Benedict Cookie Batch.”  His type of comedy is smart and elevated, unlike the grotesque Christy Calm, who trolls around the gutter only so that she may humiliate someone with her immature, thoughtless, and low-brow nicknames.

Before the night was over, I was thoroughly enchanted.  I thoughtfully followed Brett to the kitchen when he was getting beverages for others and offered him an extra set of hands.  It was there, that I was able to divulge to him that I was starting my own company and that I would very much enjoy his companionship at my kick-off party.  He gave me a business card, while I simply wrote my number and email down on a dirty napkin, as I did not want to destroy our moment by running to the living room to get a clean one.

 

Feb 23rd, 2015

I called in sick at 6 A.M. today in order to ensure I received Patrick’s voicemail.  I couldn’t afford to talk with him live and run the risk of getting guff for yet another sick day.  I was meeting with corporate lawyer, Karen Stibbs and I had to make certain that I was without distraction or unnecessary stress.  I carefully selected the iris colored skirt suit that I ordered for the most precious Expresso meetings and opening affairs out of my closet and steam pressed it.

I arrived at Karen’s office 15 minutes ahead of our scheduled meeting time and then sat there for about 45 minutes before she was ready to meet with me!  I was extremely upset with her lack of time management. This is exactly the kind of arrogant, self-centered behavior that I abhor, so I walked out the door.  Before I left I scrawled a tiny note to Karen, to inform her of the cost of her lack of punctuality.  I scribbled:

“Dear Karen,

The hectic lifestyle of today’s modern business woman, does not afford her the luxury of sitting around waiting for scheduled appointments.  Because of this, I am unable to retain you for any legal services.  You should know, that I have my eye out for a same-gendered mentor, one which I was going to reward with a small percentage of equity in my company.  You no longer are a candidate I can consider for this honored position.  While some may argue that one cannot put a price on time, I believe that you can count on this last half hour in which you have been late for our appointment to have cost you billions.

Sincerely,

Iris Elizabeth Cutter”

Just as I was walking out the door, I noticed Karen walk into the lobby.  I carefully stood by the elevator, trying to make it look as though I were typing a text, while I was really observing her reaction to my note.  She did nothing more than toss it in the trash.  I guess she must be stricken with a mental disorder that can only be characterized as having significant difficulty in showing emotion or non-verbal communication.  I feel I dodged an enormous bullet.

 

Feb 24th, 2015

I had a premonition that my Expresso stickers would arrive today.  I called Maxine and begged her to stay at home all day so that she would be able to accept the delivery.  I could only get her to agree by solemnly swearing to her that I would treat her with more respect and courtesy.

Though the stickers did not arrive, I decided to prove that I was a woman of my word.  It is absolutely imperative Maxine not leave the apartment, not even for a split second, until those stickers arrive.   So, I returned home from archery with a box of chocolate pudding and whipped cream, Maxine’s favorite dessert.

I swiftly muddled the pudding powder and milk together and served her the creamy mousse in a delightful martini glass.  After she wolfed down seconds and thirds, I casually requested if she would be able to remain my faithful servant until the Expresso adhesives arrived.   She answered in the affirmative, on the condition that she be able to live peacefully without snide comments or sudden outbursts of anger throughout the duration of her stay.

We shook hands and I decided to retire to my bedroom in order to scour the internet for a new corporate lawyer.  Upon entering, I instantly recognized that the UV light which I had been using daily to scan my bed for new protein stains was missing.

Believe me, this is no coincidence.  But, until my Expresso stickers safely and securely arrive, it seems I have no recourse for this dastardly action.

 

Feb 25th, 2015

I have an intense itching on my arm.  No matter how much I go over the rough patch of skin, even with my wonderful back scratching device, can I get relief.  I fear my body may be going into some kind of phantom anaphylactic shock due to the uncertainty on whether or not I am sleeping on a sterile mattress.

Also, my Expresso stickers did not arrive.

 

Feb 26th, 2015

Bless the world!  I stumbled upon an online legal self-help site today and submitted my application to incorporate Expresso!  Well, technically, Iris Cutter’s Expresso.  I was unable to register my company’s name as Expresso, as there is already a courier service in Georgia name Expresso.  At first I felt devastation, however, after a moment of extemporaneous, off-the-cuff thinking, I named my LLC, Iris Cutter’s Expresso.  Once I am an established CEO and am requested to speak at leadership conferences for young entrepreneurs, I will make certain to impress upon the budding stars that a highly successful CEO must always be ready to improvise their way around any roadblock.

I registered my corporation in Delaware, in order that I be able to enjoy many tax breaks and benefits.  True, I have always promised to be a good corporate citizen and I very much subscribe to the belief that all CEO’s and corporations have an obligation to be humanitarians.  However, as every great philanthropist knows, one cannot help the world, without first helping themselves.

 

Feb 27th, 2015

At exactly 3:28 P.M. today my Expresso stickers arrived!  Maxine joyfully phoned me, right after she signed for the package.  I was so overjoyed and excited that I jumped right out of my seat and let out a celebratory high-pitched squeal.  I sat on my hands as long as I could, but admit, I stealthily sidled out of the office at 4:30.  I simply could not wait to see my stickers in the flesh!

I sprinted into my apartment and enthusiastically asked Maxine where my stickers were situated.  She smiled and pointed at the dining room table.  While my instinct was to lunge at the package and tear it open, I thoughtfully took a deep breath and savored the sacred moment.

When I first envisioned Expresso, I was in the depths of severe despondency and dejection.  Ohranj had, only weeks prior, confessed a secret infatuation for another woman, ending our year-long love affair.  Although we have always weathered an on-again, off-again romantic entanglement, this was the first time he ever had an adulterous heart.  I was devastated.  Truly, I can’t say for certain that I would still be in the land of the living, had I not dreamed up demonstrative coffee labels.

And here I was, on the precipice of opening the very first ever Expressos.

I slowly walked towards the delivery, tightly holding a box cutter, closed my eyes, and carefully made my first incision.  The box had very little give and before I knew it, I was gazing at 10,000 elegant stickers.  Tears starting flowing from my eyes in plentiful streams.  I took the very first sticker and carefully set it aside.  I instantly wanted to stick it on a cup, snap a picture and send it to the world, but restrained myself.  I must think long and carefully as to what to do with this sticker.  It is, after all, the adhesive that will change the way the world drinks coffee and will have an unmeasurable, inherent value.

I turned to Maxine and could see the unscrupulous wheels of her mind spinning.  I quickly packed the box back up and brought all of my stickers, the box cutter, and packing slip, to a secret location inside my bedroom.  I am certain, if left unattended, Maxine will undoubtedly post the first Expresso in order to usurp my fame and fortune.

 

Feb 28th, 2015

I couldn’t sleep a wink all night last night.   I am absolutely petrified that someone is going to break into my house and steal all of my Expresso stickers.  I cannot find a secure enough location for my state-of-the-art adhesives.

I phoned my mother and father and asked if there was perhaps some kind of confidential Cutter safe or safe deposit box which would be available to house a top-secret industry game-changer.  My father inquired if I was talking about my Expresso stickers.  Just my luck!  Maxine has clearly already blabbed to my parents about the arrival of my labels!  I shudder to think of how many other low lifes to which she may have divulged this information.

My mother suggested that I just post the first Expresso so that I could stop worrying.  Her idea was so absolutely idiotic that it surpassed amusement.  This is a cold, calculated world in which we live.  People will do absolutely anything in order to bathe in riches and luxury. Once the secret of Expresso is out, not only will there be animals that try to steal my adhesives for sale on the black market, but I too, will have a huge target on my back.

I think I will wait until my next archery lesson before I dare post the first ever Expresso.  While at the target range, I will make certain to visit the supply store and arm myself with the most reliable Kevlar or equivalent vest.

 

 

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