I must have some sort of pheromone spray on me today, because against my better wishes, I've been engaged several times in slightly-awkward-conversation-with-the-stinking-air-of-sexual-overtone-coming-from-men-that-are-old-enough-to-be-my-father all day long. This isn't the amusing part though. The amusing part is that for reasons I might get into later, I've had to take Vicodin for the last two days to quell some "pain" of mine. So, not only am I apparently really cute walking around the office, but I'm cute and spacey: perfect for attracting older rich men like hoboes to a bottle of Johnny Walker Black.

Usual situation: I becomed cornered in an elevator, for at least 20 to 25 seconds, taking the brunt of initial side-glances and smiles until one says the following phrases, to which I have repeated the following various responses:

"You work here?"
Yes, No, Maybe, I'm a temp, I don't really know, hopefully not for long, why?, do you?, what's that smell?

"What floor do you work on?"
7, 5, 10, I'm just here to deliver flowers, 6, I'm sorry?, why?, not sure

"Are you a Partner?"
No, I'm a temp, I'm actually trying to not work here at all, no I'm just filling in, Yes, no I'm a secretary, no I would kill myself first; are you?

"Are you a Secretary?"
No, I'm a temp, actually I'm trying to be a writer, I'm an assistant, who's asking, why is my partner looking for me?

"How Long have you worked here?"
1 day, 2 months, I can't remember, I've taken too much vicodin today, what's your name? [sometimes I just hold up my fingers] 4 months? Oh, god has it been that long?? Someone Shoot ME!

"What floor are you going to?"
I'm getting off, I can see my reflection in the top of your head, I'm not sure, I started taking vicodin two days ago, in the grand scheme of life does it really matter anyway?

I've been riding the elevator all day long in order to avoid work, and the pressure of performing under the influence of pain pills.

It's 5:15. I'm going home.