April 11. Tuesday Night.

Hi Journey.

Shelly is simply going to work her fair self to fatigue if I don't find a way to stop her.

She pulled an all-nighter last night. She catnapped for a couple hours in Tethered Helium (yes, alone , Journey) but other than that she spent all night grinding through new designs for the Brentwood Sisters.

Our prize clients were unhappy. Seems one of their neighbors invited both sisters over for tea to show off her new Great Room; and her designer was from New York, and of course well dahling how could one ever trust these locals with any type of refined work…the friend supposed that our firm might be good enough for somebody over in Hampton Heights, but certainly wouldn't fit the, well, the discriminating taste of a Brentwood residence.

So, the sisters phone up first thing yesterday morning. I was tied up with a client, but Viv and Shelly hopped right into a car and visited them straightaway. Viv told me that Shelly was just completely on; fielded every question they had about fabric colors and lighting for each of their jobs. When Shelly got back at lunchtime she was completely afire: there was no way she was going to let this job slip over to some East Coast firm. No way. She cloistered herself inside Tethered Helium, ordered a large pizza, and we didn't see her the rest of the day except for potty breaks. I went home around Seven last night, she was still in there, munching on pizza with the Dixie Chicks blaring in the background. I was about to go in, but she waved me off.

Just after lunch today Shelly and Viv drove back out to Brentwood to meet with Mrs. Dr. Ruice and her sister.

Success! The sister's are sticking with us, and even let on they'd hold a couple of teas of their own once the work was done-- and invite Shelly and Viv out to field any questions their friends might have.

I sent Shelly home around Four; she was still lucid enough to drive, but that was about it.

And then I rang up Big Mike's and had them courier over a hundred dollar gift certificate to Shelly's at her apartment.

Did I ever tell you about the time I tackled Dartmouth 's left wing when I was a Junior at Smith? She was from the Hamptons : very pretty, smelled of money. Fortunately her dentist did a great job capping the incisor she chipped when her face hit the ground.

I guess that's a story for another day.

Goodnight, Journey.

Read April 9th entry.

Read April 13th entry.