a)  wrote on in tiny writing and

b)  gingerly attached to the equally as tiny tie labels on the back of the ties.

Pat was off sick, which initially made me happy, but I quickly realized that she blatantly called in sick because she didn’t want to do Easter cards, either.

It turned out to be the worst job on the planet ever.

I’m not being funny, but maybe communism is a good idea after all. There’s a lot to be said for people not having a choice.

Kate was so happy I was there to do the shit job nobody wanted to do that she got us all Starbucks. I had a vanilla latte as usual, and Emma was like: “I didn’t take you for a vanilla latte kind of woman.” And then she winked at me.

Is the vanilla latte a stupid drink?

Emma got a chai latte with soy milk. Maybe I’ll get that next time.

On the way home, I asked Kate why Emma volunteers at the shop, and Kate was just like: “Why don’t you ask her yourself? I’m sure she’ll tell you.”

Yes, well, I’m sure she’ll tell me, too, because I’m sure it’s not actually a very interesting story, except it is now that Kate’s made a drama out of it.

I really wish life was a lot more straightforward.

What’s Emma all about?

9:08 P.M.

And just one more thing about Emma: I’ve never known anyone with bigger, more beautiful eyeballs.

According to the internet, blue eyes are a mutation that occurred six thousand to ten thousand years ago. Until then all humans had brown eyes. Also, only 8 percent of the world’s population have blue eyes, and there actually is no blue pigment in blue irises, and they only look blue the same way the sky looks blue but isn’t.

Friday, March 2 #Cringe

When Kate got home tonight, she was like: “James came to the shop today.” And I was like: “Who’s James?”

Kate: You know James.

Me:…

Kate: James James. Beautiful James. From the Goat.

Turned out Gastroporn James visited the thrift shop and was casually browsing the nonfiction book section when Kate recognized him.

Apparently working at the Goat isn’t his life. He’s at Wimbledon College of Arts, where he’s doing a BA in fine art, and he’s twenty-three. Kate said she asked him to volunteer for her, because she’s got chronic volunteer shortage, and he said he’d think about it. I swear, if he starts working at the thrift shop, I’m never setting foot in there again, because Kate would be so gross, as she clearly fancies him, and I don’t need to be subjected to another couple being all cringe, kissy, and couple-y right in my face.

Saturday, March 3 #TheCancerShop

Pat was back at work today. She sat on her usual chair by the big table pricing bric-a-brac, and I swear she looked me up and down, like, three times. I only glared at her. I wish I knew why she hates me.