theherocreator

     It was late in the night, and Liz was still typing as fast as normal on her computer. While she was filling in dates for her boss's schedule, she wished she was instead writing in her journal, ranting about her meaningless life instead of living it. I mean, she knew she needed the money, but honestly, what was the point of the mayor having a personal assistant, when really he could be doing all that work himself? All he really did all day was laze around in his office, getting fatter and uglier each day, constantly thinking about what's bad (or at least what's bad to him and other jerks like him) in the world, and only in spots thinking