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She is late. Oh God, she is so, so, so late. This is the only thought occupying her mind as she dances around her room in search of the infamous black pump that would complete her classy black and white ensemble for the day.
Where is that cursed shoe?!
She frowns, realizing the level she must stoop to, literally, to continue the search for her shoe. It's under the bed, most likely, but she'll wrinkle her blouse if she crouches down to look for it. And if it isn't even there, it will be a wasted effort and she'll have wrinkled her blouse for nothing.
She could always wear the open-toed pumps... No, no they would ruin the entire professional look she had going. She makes her decision and kneels on the floor to look under the bed. Sure as the sun rises, her beloved pump rests among the dust bunnies.
She snatches it and hops to her feet. Her dance around the room begins again as she makes sure she has everything for the day. Sleek, elegant wristwatch? Check. Resumé? Check. Classy briefcase to hold said resumé? Check. Breakfast? Shit.
She grabs an apple on her way through the kitchen, calling a goodbye to her roommate with the usual nonchalant mention of world domination.
As she steps out into the busy streets of New York City, a surge of adrenaline and confidence takes over, and her hurry is forgotten, for the moment. She struts down the sidewalk to hail a cab, but then she checks her watch and makes a mad dash for the nearest one. No matter that she's stealing someone else's ride to work.
Screw classy, she's late.
World domination would have to wait for another day. Right now, she's intent on taking the business world by storm.
Baby steps, she reminds herself as her cab pulls out into NYC morning traffic. Baby steps.
AN: I don't know; I felt as though this would kind of be how Miryam would act for an interview or something. Mir, you're always classy and hilarious, so I hoped this would suit you. I love you, darling, and I hope you like this
Where is that cursed shoe?!
She frowns, realizing the level she must stoop to, literally, to continue the search for her shoe. It's under the bed, most likely, but she'll wrinkle her blouse if she crouches down to look for it. And if it isn't even there, it will be a wasted effort and she'll have wrinkled her blouse for nothing.
She could always wear the open-toed pumps... No, no they would ruin the entire professional look she had going. She makes her decision and kneels on the floor to look under the bed. Sure as the sun rises, her beloved pump rests among the dust bunnies.
She snatches it and hops to her feet. Her dance around the room begins again as she makes sure she has everything for the day. Sleek, elegant wristwatch? Check. Resumé? Check. Classy briefcase to hold said resumé? Check. Breakfast? Shit.
She grabs an apple on her way through the kitchen, calling a goodbye to her roommate with the usual nonchalant mention of world domination.
As she steps out into the busy streets of New York City, a surge of adrenaline and confidence takes over, and her hurry is forgotten, for the moment. She struts down the sidewalk to hail a cab, but then she checks her watch and makes a mad dash for the nearest one. No matter that she's stealing someone else's ride to work.
Screw classy, she's late.
World domination would have to wait for another day. Right now, she's intent on taking the business world by storm.
Baby steps, she reminds herself as her cab pulls out into NYC morning traffic. Baby steps.
AN: I don't know; I felt as though this would kind of be how Miryam would act for an interview or something. Mir, you're always classy and hilarious, so I hoped this would suit you. I love you, darling, and I hope you like this
