"There I go doing it again," she said to herself, referring to the way that she periodically smiled at the thought of how her hard work had paid off.

"After all, I deserve to toot my own horn. And if I don’t, who will?"

As Spicy sat caressing the seating, she smiled once again in a vain attempt to shield those in the room from the narcissism with which she’s so heavily fragranced.

"The lighting is just perfect," she thought aloud as the movers waited for instructions on placement of the extremely heavy sofa table.

"Oh! Forgive me for being so inconsiderate; its fine to just sit it next to the winding staircase."

"That will surely knock them off of their feet," she said to the men.

"What do you fellows think?"

After looking at her blankly, they glared at one another in dismay at the nerve of the overbearing, self-centered, self-righteous, late 30-something and understandably single daydreaming professional.

You fellows must be tired of me by now. This is my third move this year. It didn’t seem to dawn on her that the movers only worked for the company and hadn’t a clue, nor concern that she had moved two times already that year.

She wouldn’t be missed much by friends for they were few, and she would be content as long as she was to find someone else to manipulate.

Spicy and resilient. Just as her name implied this young lady comes prepared with an east coast game that was unwavering.