Character: Olga Nikitina (Nikita)

The web was something personal. Web no one. Everyone has maids. It's like all systems go and sing a song, and all so good: and those who go, and those who look. And when you suddenly take a step to the side, nothing changes. For them. You just cease to be part of and get solid.
So I felt like a person, I had to make the web. Interestingly, as if to let apartment a couple of mice, I will start megalomania?

Lately I have been scaring old ladies. They behave as if nothing happened. As if not these wrinkles around the eyes, as if her cheeks are not hanging on the cheeks, like clothes on a line, as if their priests are not like bursting a balloon, in a word, if they did not happen this terrible thing called "menopause".

It is a pity that I do not like to read books. The authors are constantly trying to be clever. I might be a writer. This is the same as many of my friends for no reason become fashion designers and interior designers.

Dogs in new York. Each of them has five people who are not allowed to develop inferiority complex: hairdresser, a vet, a man who walks, the trainer and yoga teacher. Yoga for dogs is called doga. Simple exercises that can be performed literally any pet. Of course, under the supervision of a professional.
And all these five people, constantly presunutia, telling the dog: "good", "good", "clever", "beautiful" - and so every day. Of course, the dogs are recognizing its importance.
If I was a new York dog, I would not be interested in innovations in plastic surgery. And maybe old age would have scared me. "Smart", "beautiful", "good", "good". Five days a week. The remaining two day of individual auditory training.

I smiled. She looked through me into the ground. I was ashamed to fall for that smile, but the more I was nervous, so my smile became wider.

The housekeeper came once a week. Moreover, if the house was a mess, she demanded more money. These are English rules. For her arrival I cleaned the house.

I tried to relax and nothing to think. The brain itself, my words and my voice continued its monologue... I tried a last resort. Introduced myself a little in my head. And carrying a huge broom. And I methodically from left to right swept his own thoughts.
The main thing - not to be distracted. Much to wave a broom - tzhik, tzhik, and thoughts do not have time to form into words. TJ-W-zhik, TJ-W, putt...