kenopsia [h.s]

★09☆

These boots are made for walkin' > Nancy Sinatra
Room on fire > Stevie Nicks
Shine on you crazy diamond (pts. 1-5) > Pink Floyd

(A/N: When you see the youtube video play the pink floyd song from minutes 5:10 to 6:25, if you want to)

I feel drained. It's been the longest week of the month for me and it's only Wednesday afternoon. I've had four exams, two shooting practices for Short Film Directing and submitted two essays in the past three days. Today I had a Screenwriting III test and a long lecture of almost three hours of Intermediate Film Production, which is the class I made the video project for.

I will receive the grade and the feedback next week and I can't wait to hear what my professor thinks about it, he is my favorite and I've learned a lot from him. And... I may have a little crush on him, professor Mauricio is so passionate, a film junkie, has sexy silver fox hair and lots of tattoos.

Anyway. Currently, I'm at my dad's office in Skoglund Records answering calls, organizing papers and folders with Sam sitting at the desk in front of mine. My dad went to a meeting two hours ago and asked me yesterday if I could go to the company to help my brother with some paperwork and fix his schedule. It's not the most exciting job, the secretary part, but I like being here and wandering around the huge building, sneaking into the studios and offices and admiring the plaques with famous records, pictures of artists and awards. And play my father's signed Vinyl collection.

These boots are made for walkin'
And that's just what they'll do
One of these days these boots are gonna walk all over you

The Boots album by Nancy Sinatra, originally signed by her and gifted to my dad by a producer that worked with her, is spinning on the record player while I dance around the office placing and pulling folders on and off the shelves. Imagining that in my mind, I'm in the 60s, a housewife cleaning the cute colorful vintage office of my dreamy daddy handsome husband. In my head, my man is Marlon Brandon, and Alain Delon, and Rock Hudson, and Paul Newman, and Robert Redford, and...

Yeah, I was definitely a 60s whore housewife.

"You keep lying' when you oughta be truthin' and you keep losing when you oughta not bet." I make some faces while singing, swinging my hips and arms, shaking my ass and imitating some of the dance moves I memorized from the music video. It's when I walk back to the desk that I stopped once I see Sam staring at me with a derision look, his hands frozen on the keyboard of the square computer "What?"

"Nothing, I just wish I've a camera right now to record you and show it to your friends."

I stick my tongue out to him and collapse on the swivel chair, reading the date of the sheet in my hand and placing it on the folder corresponding to that date, doing the same with the rest of the reports. I take a sip of my iced caramel latte, blinking when I start to feel my eyes heavy. I could use a nap right now. I've got a few papers here to organize and I'm done, but I can't go home yet, I have to stop by the tattoo parlor where Suki works at because she called me on Monday saying she needed to tell me something huge and important.