Dear Diary;
Last day on the job. Wearing my yoga pants under my vestments while they push me around St. Pete’s for my official goodbye. Fuck ’em if they don’t like it. What are they gonna do: fire me?
Glad those individual meetings with my cardinals are over. Such high maintenance bitches! NO, I can’t put in a good word for you. NO, you cannot have my red shoes. NO, I can’t TIVO DWTS for you. Tomorrow, you’re ass is someone else’s problem. Get outta my face, already!
Last night in the big bed. Good thing because that mattress is shot. Thank Christ I’m not gonna die on it…