 Parade Recovery |
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Good morning! It's 9:10 a.m. on Sunday, and I've already been at work for an hour and ten minutes! It is my penance for not making it in yesterday after the parade. Parade day was a blur of raspberry margarita after raspberry margarita, getting a very sunburned face, making a few stops at the martini bar, talking on my cell phone while playing in the cellophane-wrapped starched shirts of businesspeople in the darkened aisles of a closed dry cleaners, shoveling red beans and rice and girl scout cookies into my inebriated cakehole at a post-parade party, walking up and down the overpass, petting random dogs, sleeping it off with a couple of cats on my face, going to Target sobered up but still delirious and proceeding to be shocked by the handle of my cart during my entire shopping endeavor and jumping and yelling, "OW!" each time to the alarm of my fellow consumers, and finishing the day off with some scrambled eggs and grits and watching season two of Felicity in a pile of dogs on the couch. All in all, it was a good parade day. I'm listening to John Mayer on Yahoo radio (remember, people, as a wise reader advised me, do not get heavy-handed with the skipping, as it speeds up the process of Yahoo trying to charge you), and I find myself wishing as I always do when I hear his pretty music that I had never ever laid eyes on him singing. Whoa, she laid her eyes on you, huh, Mayer? Yes, I did. And I wish I hadn't. Because he's adorable ... when he's not singing. Now I need to write a speech, possibly take a lunch break to go to the gym in the attempt to burn off some calories from yesterday, otherwise known as the most calories ever consumed by a human being in a single twelve-hour period, work some more, and then at some point have coffee with my mother's friend's daughter whose boyfriend broke up with her instead of proposing as planned. Because who am I if not a sage counselor who clearly knows how to get right on over such a heartbreak? Right. Well, whatever. Coffee is coffee which is always good, and if she can see someone sitting across from her someone who went through it and did not die, then maybe some good will come of it. Because she's at the point where she still thinks she just might. And I feel for her, so I'm going. Jesus! Karma.
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© Copyright 2004 elb |
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