Diary, I've got to come clean. I've been in a real tizzy lately- even my extensions are falling out! See, about fifteen years ago I slept with a man who was well past being my senior in age, for an extended vacation period of time, and now it's come back to haunt me. Literally. He died a couple of weeks ago, choked on a pretzel or something so unspectacular, and left me in the will. Can you believe it? Poor thing probably hadn't updated it since the time of our affair not to remember, and now his children don't know who the hell I am, and oh, pardon my language, Di, but it's just an honest to somebody's god mess.
I'll breath a sigh of relief when it's all over. I mean, honestly, his pretty pennies don't mean squat to me. Just as long as I don't wait up with no ghost dad under my bedspread. If I do, I'll take that bastard for every last crumb he has. Nobody haunts me, not nobody.
