divine angst

I just felt something on my toe under my desk, so I shook my foot, thinking it was a piece of detritus falling from the underside of my keyboard tray.

And it moved up my toe, under my sandal strap.

I flung my foot out, nearly tossing my sandal off in the process, and pushed back from my desk. Feet hiked up on the central column of my chair, I peered into the dark corner underneath.

And I saw a beetle scuttle away.

I think I might throw up.

Listening to someone’s conversation in a bar, except it’s not really a real conversation, it’s one person talking about her job and the crappy cast of characters she works with.

And I love when, after her friend makes some consoling noises and starts to tell her his own similar experience, she says, “Well that’s easy for you to say, you don’t have a family to support. But, no, no, i’m not one of those women, really. Tell me your story.”

Wow.

LQ tipped me off to this site full of lovely romance novel covers.

My personal favorite? This one: