It must have been the double-dog-dare: Susan zapped me a picture of her office. I’d just like to point out that I didn’t have fast food styrofoam anywhere in my office. Mostly because the fast food places I frequent are too cheap to use styrofoam. What’s wrong with a plan old paper bag, Miss I’m-Too-High-Falutin’-For-A-Cardboard-Box? And she’s kept her poinsettia alive past Christmas, which clearly means she’s made a deal with the devil.
“Okay, Missy, here’s my office as of this very minute. Thank God you didn’t challenge me to take a picture of myself because the office looks a heck of a lot better than I do. I am cringing, however, at the fast food container on my desk, but I just had my very nutritious lunch of leftover salad with no dressing. (As long as I’m making you mad…) In total fairness, I cleaned up my desk 2 days ago, but even at it’s worst it never looked like— Never mind. My headache is coming back.”
“Here’s the thing. Your godawful mess of an office looks like the inside of my head ALL THE TIME, which is why I have to keep my workspace reasonably organzied. Otherwise, it would all just be too painful. That mess you work in is a credit to your amazing brainpower.”
See, THIS is why she’s my pal, even when wearing an electric bubble shirt and lying to Rod Stewart about me. Of course, then she ruins it by adding:
“By the way, I love your new cover for DON’T LOOK DOWN. Still angry that you only gave me that first amazing chapter to read. So unfair to keep me dangling like this, but then that cruel streak of yours does have its way of sticking its head up, now doesn’t it?”
So of course I’m sending her an ARC. How can I not?
I love Susan Elizabeth Phillips, bless her classy little heart.