Ignoring the stunning specimen before her, she dashed back to the door. Closing it and locking it so that sex crazed world could stay in the closet or wherever it happened to be –certainly out of the mainstream.

Molly brushed her hands together in the universal “I’m finished” gesture. She pulled her frozen dinner onto her lap, and flipped through channels until she found something she could bear to watch. Eventually she drifted off to sleep.

Molly slept soundly through the night. She awoke to find light filtering in through the window in the living room. There was saliva on her pillow. Some Saturday morning cartoon she noted had replaced Dane Cook’s show.
Sitting up, she stretched her arms, and felt her toe fall into what was left of last night’s dinner. It gave a gross squishing sound, and she looked despairingly at it. Another great start to another great day. Glancing over her shoulder, she didn’t see the door she remembered from the night before at all, and wondered if it had been just a dream.

Molly hobbled into the bathroom, and cleaned the goop off her toe, then undressed, taking off her Power Puff girl pjs and hopped into the shower. Her life was so dull she berated herself turning on the faucet. She ran down a mental checklist of the things she was meant to do today.

Work, work, work, not a single thing even related to play, by ANY stretch of the imagination. On the bright side, she wouldn’t have to worry about running into Mummy dear, or Mr. Perfect. She let the water burn her skin, sending her out of her reverie, and finishing the berating session on a physical note.