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    Virtually Ideal Episode 4: Why Me, God?
    Virtually Ideal Episode 4: Why Me, God?
    Virtually Ideal Episode 4: Why Me, God?
    Ebook76 pages1 hour

    Virtually Ideal Episode 4: Why Me, God?

    By Buffy Greentree

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    About this ebook

    “In contrast to my little sister’s belief I’m in a relationship with a man whom I’ve only just met and have refused to date, I’m in fact going out tomorrow night with a stranger from the internet whom I haven’t met yet but have agreed to date at least once. Then, I’m going out with my brother who’s just announced he’s leaving the country in three days’ time, but at least no one thinks that’s a date. While I do hate lying to my sister, in my defence Yanie hasn’t told me why she’s getting married in less than six weeks, so I think we’re even.”

    Only a week and a half after her little sister announced she was getting married, Laurie has travelled a long way, she’s just not sure in which direction. Work continues to be ‘interesting’, and internet dating continues to turn up options, just not attractive options. The mystery of her little sister’s wedding is only darkening, and now Hadley’s abandoning her to move overseas. But it’s fine, God has it all under control, and her Master Plan is there to pick up any slack.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBuffy Greentree
    Release dateSep 4, 2016
    ISBN9781370841615
    Virtually Ideal Episode 4: Why Me, God?
    Author

    Buffy Greentree

    Buffy Greentree is an Australian writer: born in Melbourne, sojourned in Japan and the UK, and currently living in sunny Brisbane. After almost a decade in academia - getting degrees in Classics and Archaeology, Divinity (specializing in Old Testament Studies) and a little bit of Business Management - she realized it was a whole lot more fun to make up the facts. So she took up writing. Finally her varied career across different fields seemed to be justified. Also, the years of trying to drill good essay writing technique into students' heads had not been for nothing. Her writing, as with her university degrees and employment history, shows her love of variety. She's currently editing drafts for a chic-lit serial, a historic drama, a YA and a non-fiction. There might also be a theology PhD coming into the mix soon. She hopes she doesn't accidentally get it mixed up with the romance.

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      Book preview

      Virtually Ideal Episode 4 - Buffy Greentree

      VIRTUALLY IDEAL

      by Buffy Greentree

      ***

      Smashwords Edition, License Notes

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Episode 4: Why Me God?

      Thursday

      Upon becoming fully awake, I hit myself in the head with a pillow and groan. That basically sums up where my life is at right now. It was a very simple plan: meet famous Australian author Mr. Farren, break up with him, never see him again. If that failed: don’t meet Mr. Farren, break up with him, never see him again. How could that go wrong? Instead, I ended up: meeting Mr. Farren, him wanting to date, and me stuck seeing him again.

      The selfish part of me acknowledges it would solve all my problems with my family if I agreed to go out with him and convinced him to pretend we’d been dating all along. Then I could take him to my sister’s wedding without anyone being the wiser that I’d been lying. However, the other part points out I’d be dating a man who not only had no problem hiring a girlfriend but is also fine with lying to her family. A third part I hadn’t realised was listening butts in that it would also mean I was the sort of person who didn’t mind being hired to date a guy if it meant she could show off to her family, as well as also lying to everyone. I don’t like that part very much right now.

      And sadly, this is only one of the many insane elements in my life at the moment, nearly all of which I have to hide from Yanie, my little sister whom I meeting up with in a few hours. In contrast to her belief I’m in a relationship with a man whom I’ve only just met and have refused to date, I’m in fact going out tomorrow night with a stranger from the internet whom I haven’t yet met but have agreed to date at least once. Afterwards I’m going out with my brother who’s just announced he’s leaving the country in three days’ time, but at least no one thinks that’s a date.

      In my defence, Yanie hasn’t told me why she’s getting married in less than six weeks, so I think we’re even. On the other hand, she did ask me to choose an invitation design almost a week ago, and I’ve only gotten as far as pulling them out of the envelope. She may have a right to be annoyed about that. Better make it first on the to-do-list.

      I drag myself out of bed, grab my phone, trip over a pair of shoes hidden under a skirt, and finally make it to the couch. Man, my place’s a pigsty. Anyway, invitations. All I have to do is choose one.

      After ten minutes of staring at the options, I think my brain must have dribbled out my ears: not a single thought has occurred to me. How am I meant to choose? Does it really matter? Does anyone take notice of the invitations? Anyone?

      I sigh. On impulse I throw a cloud of them into the air, hoping to watch them drift down like large snowflakes. Instead, I get hit in the eye by the corner of one of the cards. It really hurts. However, it seems only fair the one that drew first blood should be chosen. Oriental bloom it is.

      Surrounded by judgemental pieces of paper, I think of the next thing on my to-do-list. Then the next. That seems too hard. What’s next? I suddenly remember: Henry Smith’s manuscript! I started the rest of it last night between calls at work, but didn’t get to finish it. That will solve all my problems. Well, some of them at least. Okay, maybe only one, but right now that’s enough for me.

      Unfortunately, I’m on the couch, manuscript is in bag next to bed, and a minefield of unwashed, deadly clothes lie between. Having already twisted my ankle once this morning, I decide to take preemptive action. I gather up a tottering pile and try to cram it into the washing machine. Drat, will have to do two loads. How do I own so many clothes? And why’s there still never anything to wear?

      As the reward for my valiant war-effort, I collapse onto the couch with the manuscript. After an hour the machine beeps at me repeatedly until I tear myself away and change over to tumble dry. I then go back to reading. After another hour I pull out the clean, warm clothes and chuck them on my bed. The second load can wait. Grabbing some wilting celery, I go back to reading.

      After what feels like only 10 minutes I check my phone to find it’s actually been an hour. Now I’m running late to meet up with Yanie, particularly if I want to get out of the house looking like a human being. Darn you Henry Smith, darn you. And yet, bravo, bravo.

      I rush out the door a few minutes later, scarf trailing behind me. Have I ever mentioned I hate how slow trams are? After I disembark, I run/stagger to the cafe on High Street Armadale, the heart of wedding dress shopping that side of the city, and feel I make an impressive entrance. Yanie’s

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