My imaginary assistant Amanda is pushing it. It's always push, push, push, with that one. I am giving her the best job of her life, and she insists on finding ways to get on my nerves. I really don't know how much more of this I can tolerate, even if I'm not paying her.

Yesterday Will Leitch came over to drop off a chapter from his manuscript. He's asked me to write a chapter of the book responding to a chapter he's written about the first time we met. I said sure, I know the kid could use some help, add a little spice and comedy to what I'm sure is turning out to be a very dry and serious book. (I don't know why he has to be so darn serious all the time! Must speak to him about that. I'll have Amanda add that to my list of things to do.)

Anyway, Amanda took one look at him, pictured him as a big piece of shit, and then turned herself into a fly.

"Oh, of course I know who you are," she giggled, after I introduced them. "You sure don't look like a loser to me."

"Uh, well, thank you, miss, that's very kind of you to say, yes, but I can assure you I am, in fact, very much a loser." He bowed slightly.

She giggled again. She was wearing a black halter top tied together with the faintest of strings, and red leather pants. Her skin shimmered with glitter. When she had arrived that morning, she informed me she hadn't gone to sleep yet, and had just come straight from clubbing, I think at Tunnel. She still smelled better than I ever have in my entire life.

My imaginary assistant Amanda blurted, "I love your work. I just have to tell you that. It's like, I totally identify with you. You're just...so real. Your life is just like mine."

Will and Amanda smiled at each other and were silent for a moment. I coughed loudly. Yea, sure, Will stays out all night clubbing. I'm pretty sure he's allergic to glitter.

"How could my life possibly compare to the life of such a graceful angel as yourself?" sighed Will.

Amanda blushed. It started at her wrists and crept gently up her arms, landing fully on her high, dewy cheeks. I have never seen anyone actually have physical control of their blush ability before. Amazing.

"The graceful angel has some work to do," I snapped. "Amanda, isn't today the day you're supposed to go organize my book shelf by gender?"

Amanda backed out of the room, and towards the bookshelf, never breaking eye contact with Will until she shut the door. And, just as she shut the door, she raised her hand and did a cute little toodle-oo wave with her fingers.

I looked at Will, and he looked at me, and then he shrugged.

"What do you want from me?" he said. "She's hot."

"Will, she's not even real. She's imaginary."

"Even better. That completely increases my chances."

I threw his manuscript at his head. He went down quickly, and lost consciousness, but only for a minute. What a loser.

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