Not one to make lists, or even be likely to remember something she did one hour ago, Vanessa was in her apartment, Frank Sinatra playing loudly from her record player. Some days were meant for classic music like Frank Sinatra and Dean Martin, and today was one of those days.
The night is bitter The stars have lost their glitter The winds grow colder Suddenly you're a lot older And all because of the gal that got away
Vanessa had changed out of the dress she had worn to the salon, and was now in oh so stylish black tee-shirt, purple sweatpants, and a pair of fuzzy lavender clog slippers. Thankfully her makeup was still intact, and her hair was still decent and down in a mop of curls. The bandage on her hand hadn't been changed yet and was currently a few different colors of the rainbow from work. It was currently sporting brown, black, a pumpkiny color, and pink. When she heard the knock, she stopped the record and answered the door, drinking a can of diet coke with a bright pink straw. "Hello?"