Get Some Insight....So Off Schedule

I didn't expect returning back to work to throw me off this much, but honestly, they produce five different weekly magazines at my new office and everyone's writing for each one and I can't even figure out how many letter combinations you can get out of a five letter word. And I'm not in the outlook calendar so I just run to the conference room when everybody else does. But I get to write several pages myself and run around with a notepad and sit in fast-talk meetings and that's very, very nice.

Me and the other interns stuck to our January plan which was essentially to go out a lot because that's the last month we're all here. Didn't say it was the most detailed plan ever known to mankind. But we hit the Reeperbahn (that's this famous partying/red light district street) and I have a question: Did the people in the first few minutes of Dirty Dancing know each other? And if not, did they at least ask for each other's names? Dancing culture sure has changed since the days of Elizabeth and Darcy skipping around each other while firing sarcastic questions with every twirl. But then again, Darcys are rare.

I'm on season three of Jane The Virgin and oh my Goodness, why oh why? I'm not gonna spoil you (even though it is unlikely because I am, as usual, late for the party) but I'd like to know who wrote that script.

Oh and I bought quite a lot of second-hand stuff lately, which is a first for me because remember, I get icky over hotel sheets. But my loveliest friend discovered a website where they inspect the pieces and give you their condition and the deals were too good to resist (granted, I didn't try too hard but anyways). The package is arriving tomorrow, and I hope they'll put it in the hallway, because I'm never home on weekdays and you had to give your neighbours full names in order to direct the package to them and I hardly know their last names (and that only because they're written out next to their doors).

So yeah, now we're up to date. Hope January's treating you well.

Love,

Rosy Smith