Dear Diary,

It started with a toy that was really a playboy cursed by a witch and then a teapot that appeared to predict death but was really a nasty little fairy that got a kick out of tormenting humans. But it really started way before. I hated the nine to five, wearing kitten heels, and sitting in meetings. When I was going to Kiara’s wedding and saw this little storefront it was like I don’t know coming home, falling in love, and finding a twenty in the sofa cushions.

When the company I worked for was bought I cashed in my stock and jumped to buy that little store, cat and all. I’m happy really I’m happy but some thing is missing. The shop is a dream. I mean the bathroom sink is always stopped up, and the windows are drafty af, and don’t get me started on taxes but I still a dream.

There something about these objects, the people behind the paranormal. I love unraveling their mysteries and helping them find their happiness. I want to keep doing this dear diary. I’m drawn to objects and they appear drawn to me.

So am I crazy? Jaime says yes. Jaime would definitely say I’m coco for cocoa puffs but this is me. And speaking of Jaime what’s his deal? Speak of the devil I see him now crossing the street with a pissed off mannequin. It’s on.