| From the personal Blog of Kathleen Forbes |
[07 Apr 2009|12:40am] |
I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
( Journal Entry )
*Warning House M.D. spoiler from tonight
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| Wheels Keep Turning |
[07 Apr 2009|12:55am] |
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mood |
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 listless |
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The gym was officially closed for renovation and Kris was hoping against hope that she would have the client base to bring it back once all the damage had been repaired. The insurance had covered it all, thankfully. She just couldn't put how disheartening it was to see your hard work destroyed with so much abandon into words, couldn't express the way she was feeling without putting her fist through something and it sucked.
She was tired and feeling every one of the hours she'd spent cleaning up the gym, but there was still more work to be done. She'd called Connor and arranged a meeting in the park, the need for open space was currently overwhelming. She needed to talk to him, tell him the God's honest truth and give him notice of her poor financial state. This gym was her living but she knew it went a long way to Connor's as well, he needed to know, it was only fair.
Kris knew the money from Toby had been more generous, but she'd spent most of it on buying the building then put the rest into the college fund for Rosa. She wasn't touching it, she wasn't about to stoop to her father's level to get her through. Not now and not ever.
It was warm out but Kris had a jacket on, she was feeling cold for some unexplainable reason. It had to be stress. She kicked up her heels and rested the soles of her boots against the edge of the bench she was sat on before she merely closed her eyes, tipping her face into the sun.
( Never Done This Before )
( Baby Steps )
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| Fuzzy |
[07 Apr 2009|01:29am] |
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mood |
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 distressed |
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It had felt like something out of a bad dream. In fact, initially that was what she had thought it was. Jennifer Lowe jerked upright, whole body aching and muscles feeling like they were on fire as she stumbled towards a nearby bun. She dry-heaved into it, the nausea overwhelming and not helped by the stench of rotten food that was assaulting her senses. Her throat burned, as did her stomach, the acrid taste of bile lingering on the edge of her tongue as she stayed where she was, head hanging and hair touching the rim of the bin.
She would need to shower when her body was done throwing up.
She didn't know what she was doing outside so early in the morning. Blackouts were a new one for her. She had never done that before. It was a worrying turn of events if she was suddenly going to start blacking out.
Her stomach twisted in fear; where was she exactly? How had she got there? What had happened? She was preoccupied by not knowing where she was that she completely missed the silence in her mind where there should be noise. She supposed she had been lying weirdly on her arm as she had pins and needles across her left shoulder blade, but it was nothing to worry about, the fact that she was retching into a trash can was more concerning for her.
( Going Home )
( Quiet? )
[Voicemail to Alec included within]
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| Dig In |
[07 Apr 2009|03:57pm] |
Dear Mr. Guevera,
THE NEW YORK POST is proud to inform you of our interest in your services. We are prepared to offer you a full-time position as supernatural affairs reporter with our paper. We are aware of your previous journalistic experience at The Clark County Beacon, as well as your internship with The New York Times. We are also aware of your expertise in matters supernatural, and we feel you would be a perfect fit for our staff.
Enclosed is all the information you need should you decide to pursue this opportunity. If you have any questions, feel free to contact our news editor, Grant Norris, at the phone number atop this letter.
Thank you for your time and we hope you seriously consider our offer.
( Ramen and Diet Coke Diet )
[NPC Laurel was written by Dew.]
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