The husband and I just finished watching the movie “Wanted,” and I have made a new life decision to be Angelina Jolie. It will begin tomorrow. Tonight I shall cut all of my shirts into cleavage heaving tank tops, do 9,087 crunches, relieve Walgreen’s of their entire supply of black eyeliner, and practice my smolder. Tomorrow it’s on.

Here’s how I suspect my first day will go…I awake to the sound of a bullet whizzing past my left earlobe and yawn. I cartwheel into the kitchen, do a shot of Jack Daniels to start the day, and burn toast to a crisp with its very proximity to my hotness. I will be late for work again because my black leather pants are in the dryer. This provides an excuse to saunter about the house naked and give myself a homemade tattoo with a Bic pen and a butter knife.

My morning routine complete, I back handspring to the Honda Civic and attempt a window entry. I should have done 9,088 crunches, so the window entry is a no go and I opt to unlock the door with my super suave assassin (Honda mass manufactured) key fob. A single raindrop falls on the interstate and I zero in on the 12 spontaneous wrecks on I-65 South between Finley Boulevard and the junction. I curse, use the Prius stalled in front of me as a ramp, and grind down the guard rail for 25 miles, skidding into the Blue Cross parking lot at 8:29 AM.

I sprint with the speed of a Cheetah across the 2.7 mile stretch from my parking space to the west entrance of the building, only to realize that I left my security badge in the last warehouse I was hanging from the rafters in. The security guard must be bypassed, so I rip open my tank top to reveal the VerySexy leopard print bra that I purchased at the Victoria’s Secret semi-annual sale, melt his defenses with my withering gaze, and puff out my ridiculously sensual pout.

This accomplished, I’ll probably be pretty worn out (it being my first day and all) and will more than likely go home sick around 9:20. I’m thinking Chef Boyardee and Sam’s Choice cola for lunch. We’ll see how it goes.

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