Intervention Needed

Fio is very angry--but then that seems to be her constant state these days. Her newest gripe is that amuseum, not that Fiorella is wild aboutfor two days running, the American-Statesman hasn't delivered her newspaper, which she depends on--anagrams, comics, and an article or two--to get her started in the morning. She called the paper, of course, waited through the interminable clicks and clacks, and finally got a real person. On Monday, the real o was able to get her a late newspaper, but the steel-hearted bitch that Fio got on Tuesdaywouldn't waver, even when Fiorella said she was going to drive six miles down the street to a convenience store, buy a newspaper there, and send the Statesman a bill for it. Stay tuned--Fio may also come up with more diabolical scheme.
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The highlight of Fiorella's day yesterday was that she met up with romance-writing friend Jan at Fish Daddy's. The discussed the romance market (saturated), the state of the world (going to hell in a handbasket) and their own lives (Jan's is pretty good, but Fio's, as you know, gets worse every time she turns around.) Yeah, Fio spilled her guts.
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On the way home, Fiorella stopped at FedExKinkos and got thirty photocopies of the acrostic she designed that unites all her cousins' names . She'll put them in the the mail tomorrow, with the full realization that most of her clever word-plays will be dropped in a waste basket after a day or two, but if she she's lucky, maybe a cousin with an artistic side will tuck Fio's work of love away in a memory book. (
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As an artist, Fio learned long ago that most people don't recognize true art unless it's labeled. or hanging in a museum--although she's seen  far two many items in museums that should have been chucked in the trash can. And don't get her started on those awful sad-eyed  urchins or the gold-edged schmuck that Thomas Kincade turns out in his "art" factories.
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Has Fiorella emptied herself of her vitriol? Well, not quite yet. Look for more to come.