18 Date. ?? (1/2)

There are only so many ways one can say – you look fabulous Izzy. She has a curvy, slim figure to die for. She doesn't do it on purpose, I know, but I haul my sorry, perspiration clad, old t-shirt, sweat pants, and sneakers ass into my room on the pretext of unpacking more boxes.

The following day, I call my mom when I'm home from looking for a job. It's been a relatively unpeaceful day at the whole of San Francisco,not allowing me far too much time to think. The sun in this place is a killer. Tsk Tsk.

I'm restless, nervous about the message I received  from Mr. Control Freak early this morning , and at the back of my mind, I'm worried that perhaps I've been too negative in my response to the contract. Perhaps he'll call the whole thing off.

My mom is oozing contrition, desperately sorry about not making it at my graduation.

”Sarah honey, I'm so sorry,” my mom whines down the phone.

”Mom, it's fine. My friends where there during my graduation,  so I'm OK,  don't think too much.”

”Sarah, you sound distracted – are you okay, baby?”

”Yes, Mom,” Oh if only you knew.

There's an obscenely rich guy I've met and he wants some kind of strange kinky sexual relationship, in which I don't get a say in things.

”Have you met someone?”

”No, Mom.” I am so not going there right now.

”Well, darling, I'll be thinking of you on Friday. I love you… you know that honey?” she gave in a sheepish laugh,  what is my mom up to now?.

I close my eyes, her precious words give me a warm glow inside.

”Love you too, Mom. Say hi to your husband for me, and I hope he gets better fast.”

”Will do, honey. Bye.”