I am turning into Liz Lemon. Since I now work from home, my desk has become a minefield of coffee mugs, water bottles, hand lotion, a random spoonful of peanut butter, and papers. Oh, the papers.
This morning, I couldn't find a folder containing important notes for my summer research, so I went outside to grab it from my car--wearing a sports bra, the oldest and rattiest gym shorts I own (they bear the MWC logo, even though my dear alma mater changed its name five years ago), and Crocs. No, not Crocs, faux Crocs. Focs. On my way back up the stairs, as I passed the bag of clothes I've been meaning to take to Goodwill for about three months, I realized I needed to pull myself together. I fired off a report to my Children and the Law prof and high-tailed it to the shower in hopes of emerging looking like some acceptable version of a talented, young lawyer.
After a lovely lavendar-infused shower during which I missed only a few strips of leg hair while shaving, I found a skirt and cute top, made an effort to iron the skirt, threw on some pumps, and, pleased with the result, gave myself the frat nod in the mirror. I decided to take myself out to lunch, realizing only after I had descended a flight of stairs and locked the door behind me that my right stiletto heel was completely worn down to the little pointy steel rod inside. Oh well--I'll just be off balance. Onward.
Arriving at Ellwood's, I noticed that I had a stain on the back of my skirt. It was some sort of dried General Tso's sauce. Cringe. I removed said stain with the old spit-on-a-tissue manuever, grabbed a salad, and headed back home. On the way back inside, I tripped up my own stairs. Crazed with frustration and self-deprecating laughter, I threw off my wretched heels and ran to the kitchen to find some candy to take the edge off. Finding no proper candy, I ripped open a bag of chocolate chips (meant for baking cookies) and downed a handful before collapsing in front of the computer and signing onto gchat.
The boy I am dating then sent me a message. Hurray, someone likes me! Well, yes, but he sent me a youtube video of French American Idol ("Nouvelle Star") with some cute teenager singing that song from Juno, and mentioned how much he loved her glasses.
Sigh. Today was the worst.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment