...but wait, the babies haven't been born...

Listening to: Mushaboom by Feist on the hottest CD of my week, so smooth just slides down easy, loverly. Elements of old school disco and understated emotion, always appreciated.

At 7pm, after just having finished a quiet dinner with my mom I get the call from Youthography. "Can you come for a focus group tonight?", they ask. Tonight? As in the night in which currently we are past 7pm? The focus group was at 8:30. Hung up, grabbed my coat, kissed my mom and said I'd be back in a few hours. Hopped on the train again, and down we go to the club district. Two hours of "focus"ing later, I'm exhausted [but rich] and, plein de panic, planning tomorrow.

As it stands:

8am: Be home, and get dressed/fix hair. Accessorize. Pack tote bag for the day. I.e. makeup, healthy snacks, work uniform, cd player.
11am: To the public school we go, for Friday mentoring.
1:30pm: Steal one blondie from the east coast for lunch, though she doesn't yet know it yet. Hug one scandalous Rwandan, but nothing more.
5pm: Sell books.
11pm: Drink with the friends. See about a boy. Get action. (Hair this hot = not to be wasted)

The thing about focus groups, going back to that, is that you can't stop stupid people from being involved. There is no stupid filter. So annoying creatures like Mike from York University (heaven help me, but of course he goes to York) participate, and you have to humour them when they talk about how the media publication we are critiquing today isn't as credible as other news sources like ABC and CIBC.

Err...