Snow

This is no good at all.

I'm at My Nemesis' house. There are inches upon inches of white fluffy snow on the ground, with little sign of stopping. My Master and Nemesis are still sleeping; I've been awake for two hours. I had an impromptu phone call with a former employer of mine in the UK. They apparently are thinking of expanding into the US market, and offered to retain me as their sole US representative.

I'm really torn. Yes, the income would be lovely, I'm currently beginning to notice the drain in my primary bank account, the optioning of these screenplays had better happen soon. But more so than that, I left the financial services industry, and little desire to return. But, their offer was very, very attractive. I'm still thinking about this.

The real problem, though, isn't my future in international financial advising. It's snowing. I'm a tiny baby puppy, a baby puppy who is currently at odds with his car service. I simply refuse to drive my M5 in the winter, the salt is far too damaging. When I pay for a car service, I expect very little, other than they're there when I need them, and the drives are decent. Who's business is it, if I need to be picked up at 3am, in River North, and I'm rolling 4 deep? At any rate, it was the first and last time I will ever wait that long, or have to answer that many questions from an obnoxious driver, interested in how a 10# baby puppy is able to so easily corral runway models? Good lord. Choose them carefully. I guess it's back to the drawing board. In the meantime, I hope I can reschedule this meeting, and get my Nemesis to drive me to meet my cousin Pedro. God, I hate having to grovel to such a cretin.

I guess I'll go back to reading The Times, and press another pot of coffee.