people think that working together is going to breed passion and thoughts of
"HAPPILY FOREVER AFTER"?
It's been my experience that sharing your workday with others lets you see inside their "unattractive" sides on a daily basis. How stimulating is it seeing the guy in the cubicle across the way from you
picking his ear wax and then flicking it about?
May I just take a second here to say, "ewww!"
My name is Melissa, and although I would love to claim the kind of a face that makes cover-girls
weep with envy, the fact is I rarely make even the most discerning connoisseur
sit up and take notice. And that's okay, or at least that's what I tell myself.
Okay time to describe me, truthfully. I DO have blonde hair.
Is it natural? Why is that an important question? The only way to verify my claim of genetically given blondeness requires a gesture I have absolutely no intention of participating in,
so I am a blonde...no matter what you believe.
A lot of people think my hair is from
a bottle because, well I am not a cute little
blue-eyed blonde. My eyes are
brown. Since my Dad's eyes are brown, and brown is the dominant eye-color gene, being brown eyed should be little more than a
no-brainer. Of course that would require the person observing the incongruity of my blondeness and brown orbs actually "seeing" my Dad up close and somewhat personally.
I'm in my mid-twenties, and that is as close as I plan to get with narrowing in on the number of
solstice moons I have lived through. Good women NEVER tell, and I am determined to always be a
good woman!
I'm short...okay all you lovers of six feet abnormally stretched
female giants, let me tell you truthfully, GREAT things come in
small packages. Don't believe me? Just look at how cute my
backside curves are? Not going to find curves like that on those six foot walking
clothes hangers are you?
I recently got transferred...thank God. I no longer have to pretend not to see the
ear-wax flicker, but
Heaven
Help me, this might just be worse.
His name is Jack, and even though
he dresses in button down shirts that I am sure cut off the circulation to his brain, and he has a nose well established, girth-wise to hold up his glasses, HE has
blue eyes. REALLY blue eyes. The kind that no optical enhancements (glasses) can tone down.
Oh, and lest I forget, he also has shiny brown hair that sparkles beneath the lousy
fluorescent lighting above us.
Normally I don't notice such things. I'm a nose to
the spreadsheet kinda gal, but he only sits two cubicles away from me, and there's something about him that makes my
toe nails curl.
I have to be honest.
Complications are things I actively avoid, wouldn't you? But Jack, refuses to slip into the nether regions of
my psyche. The persistent little irritant has been trying to talk me into going out with him...I mean can you believe it?
It's really not fair that he cornered me
in the elevator. Where was I supposed to skitter away to? In his deep, sexy voice...(Oh I forgot to mention that? Let's just say the voice so does NOT match the up tight business image he wears daily.)...he
nudges and
dares me to go out with him on
ONE date.
That's why I'm here, about to knock on this oh so larger than large
door, with my heart beating in my throat so forcefully, I think I may
faint before he actually opens it.
What HAVE I gotten myself into?
Lindsay Below, author most prolific has the answer in her new book,
CINNAMON AND SPICE.
For more information on Lindsay and her MANY books, CLICK HERE to be taken to Lindsay's very own, very exclusively Lindsay website and of course you should not miss Lindsay's BLOG either.
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