Sometimes I have to pinch myself and remind that nagging little Butterbaby that I have a room with a view (of the Hollywood Hills), a well-paying, reliable gig with loads of freedom to do whatever I please pretty much, with a doorman who is sorry I am fat and another who has a crush on me, plus a psycho alcoholic neighbour who's a lawyer of sorts and who parks too close to my car (sometimes crashes INTO my car but pays for it) and a French boss who is sophisticated and insane but who thinks I am pretty cool overall, having delivered some of our biggest traffic pushers. Yes, things are good in wonderland, missy. If only I hadn't eaten raisin bread and tons of cheese for dinner, things would be just swell!
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