I hate working. How can one be so busy that they don't even have time to blog? Seriously, this is horrible horrible horrible. I wish I were an heiress so I didn't have to work every day. To reap the benefits of the hard work of my ancestors. And by reap the benefits I mean have all the hottest bags, shoes and clothes, go out to all the cool night spots, have famous friends and be able to jet off to, say, Monaco, at the drop of a hat.
Can you imagine what it would be like to wake up every morning as Paris Hilton? (Minus, of course, the skankiness, idiocy, the inappropriate fashion choices, the inability to dance in a respectable manner, the ass clown tendencies, the sex tape history...) I think it might be quite fun.
What shall I do today, I might ask myself. Hmmm, I would respond. Maybe I'll hop in the Bentley and head over to Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf for an iced latte. Then maybe I'll hit up Lisa Kline for a couple new t-shirts. I'd definitely need a mani and a pedi. Maybe some lounging time. Then I gotta get on the sidekick and make sure all the right folks will be out and about tonight.
This, of course, is an easy day. I can't imagine a hard day.
1 comment:
could we go to Nobu and split a piece of sushi?
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