I really suck at The Law of Attraction, man. I can't seem to think of anything at work other than jamming a letter opener into my neck or others', and then I walk outside and see Natalya. I was so sick of her by Friday evening, I sighed loudly when she came swishing up behind me and let the door swing back in her flawless face. Rather embarrassing in retrospect, but I just don't understand why the Universe sees fit to inundate me with Natalyas when I'm doing my best not to think about them. You're not doing your best, you say. Well, maybe not. I really don't think I was designed to think positively.

I go into a Scenester Sandwich Shop at lunch and am incredibly overwhelmed with jealousy of the attractive young girls with little fuzzy tails hanging from their scenester purses (When did this become fashionable? I'm so old). They sneer at me as we both stand beside the scenester surfboard with the menu printed on it and I begin feeling crushed beneath the weight of my own insecurities. How did they get off so easy? Why do they have such perfect skin and beautiful boobs? Straight teeth, smooth legs and hair that curls around their shoulders? What did they do for it? Why were they given all that? They don't realize what they have.

But then someone could be thinking the similar things about me. And maybe they're right. I don't realize what I've been given and what I could do with it. But I'm trying. Sort of.