NOTES: Write and click. Write and click. Write and click. Nooo, not "right click"... darn it. Now I gotta start again... .
Oooh, today's a good day. Had a good lunch, especially since Donna agreed to go with me. I don't know why I've never asked before. Thinking about it, she's really beautiful, and the way the sunlight hit her hair, I swear she looked like an angel. What a weird feeling. What is this stupid feeling? It's lingering in my chest. Weird. Incredibly weird. Hey, Joey. No, I don't know what the latest... Will you leave me alone? No, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped. No, I just... No, I'm not in a bad mood. I'm sorry. Okay. I'll see if I can't find the polls, okay? Yeah, bye. Bye Kenny. God, everytime I say his name, i wanna scream "Oh My God, they killed..." But anyway. Can't be childish, can we? Noo. I wonder what CJ's up to.
Hey Carol. She what? Do I care? Heh. Thought so. Hey CJ. Boy, you look like hell. The door is closed. No, I won't leave until you tell me what's . . . Toby? Oh, wow. Really? Is he okay? Are you okay? What do you mean? Who else has asked you that? Oh, Danny. What do you mean, don't say it like that? I said it normally. Relax. God, I've never seen anyone so clueless before when faced with an issue of love. I wonder where Donna is. What, CJ? Yeah, I'm here. What do you mean, outer space? That's ridiculous. Listen, I'm gonna go check on Toby, see what I can find out. Don't lock yourself away in here. Life goes on and Tobe will be okay, I promise. Okay, bye.
God, what was that about? She doesn't... *care* about Toby, does she? Nooo, they're friends, just friends. Ooh, it's Donna. Wow, she's really... pissed. What the hell? I don't know what you're... No I didn't break Margaret's neighbor's cat's leg; where did that come from?? I don't even known Margaret's neighbor, or his cat! Donna, would you stop-- Donna -- Donatella Moss! Listen to me. Calm down, breathe. What's really wrong? What do you mean, you're confused? Well, I mean... Oh, boy. This is not good. When a beautiful woman who handles the people you talk to and controls your schedule each day storms away from you, it is definitely *not* a good sign. Oy, safe office, nice office, comfy chair in nice, safe office. No angry chief of staff. No hiding press secretary. No frustrated beautiful assistants rambling about "keeping things hidden" or "being confused" about whatever. It was just lunch, wasn't it? Did she think it was something more? Wait a minute ... Did I think it was something more? I don't even know.
Why is life so frustrating? I don't have a love life, though I'm always trying. I work in a business that is full of people trying to hurt others and in the midst of it all I'm trying to make the world a better place. "I serve at the pleasure of the President of the United States." God, what does that mean, really? It means so much. It means I work long hours, usually weekends too, deal with nasty people, accept the threat of life and limb, sacrifice any excuse for a life, and spend my days arguing with people to let me do my job and better the society we live in. That's "serving at the pleasure of the President" or is it? God, I love the people I work with, but right now I'm about willing to run away to Canada or California or Bermuda or somewhere far, far away from here.
Goddamn it. The Forbes speech. The briefing. I got ten minutes. I better figure out what happened to Toby.