Cranky fell apart last week. Why? Cranky’s husband took a powder that’s why. Cranky’s usual powers of concentration were gone gone.
I had a few incidents that made me doubt my sanity. Which takes a lot because Cranky already accepts that she’s a bit crazy. But I was saved. Thank goodness for the gays and the dermatologists. And especially my beloved dermatologist! Because when you are flung “out there” again a girl needs a bit of a lift, you know?
But I digress.
Last week. Had a meeting with my boss and an important luncheon. And the running question all day that my boss had was; “Where is my manila envelope with the information I need to write the proposal?” “Ah, I don’t know. I haven’t seen it,” answered Cranky. “Are you sure?” asked my boss. “Never saw it,” I say. This goes on all day. We search the car. We search my partner’s car. At the end of the day the boss puts me in a car and has her assistant drive me all the way to the Westchester office to see if she left it there. It is 7:00 at night. It’s an empty warehouse building. I unlock three doors, turn on lights in the pitch-black building and turn off the alarm system. The “envelope” is not there. The assistant drops me at the train and one minute before my train to Grand Central arrives I get a text from my boss: “Are you SURE you don’t have it?” I give out an exasperated sigh and open my briefcase. There it is. It is a folder, not an envelope, which is what I was looking for all day. I text my boss back: The fucking folder is in my fucking briefcase.” She calls me,” Get in a cab and bring it to me.” So I get in brand X car service car and go from one Westchester town to another to find the restaurant she is in now. My boss talks really really fast and I cannot understand the name of the restaurant or the address. And I can’t keep saying, “What what what?” because even if the other person is completely unintelligible, if you keep saying “what what what?” they think you are the stupid one. So I end up doing multiple U-turns on a dark suburban street while the Hispanic driver looks at me like I’m a complete idiot. By the third phone call I ascertain that she had given me the wrong street name. It was Envelope. Just kidding.
The next day I go to work to find out that I had entered the wrong code into the alarm and the police came and we are being charged one hundred and fifty bucks for the unnecessary visit. The landlord is happy because he hates me and has the whole thing on tape from the security camera. “She was in the building for six minutes!” I can hear him yelling up and down the hall.
How dare my ex-husband make me this way.
Then I did background work on “Damages” on my day off and left my wallet on the roof when I went up there to take pictures of the view. My wallet. On the roof. A crew member by some miracle found it and gave it to me. I was completely unaware that I had lost it.
I guess I had lost it in more ways than one.
But then I got to watch “The Grammy’s” with the gays. They set Cranky straight. “It’s all about moving past it,” they tell me. “We have to find you a song.” They were SO FUN. And Cranky found some perfect songs. That darling Taylor Swift really hit the nail on the head with that “Mean” song. And Adele gave me chills with her “Rolling in the Deep” performance. They are on my IPod now and I play them every morning when I get ready for work where I am making believe I am a businesswoman. With a briefcase. My latest role.
I was feeling better already. But then I went to see my beloved dermatologist Dr. David Colbert who really helped me back to being my old self. Because if you at least look good you can feel a bit better about life. One session with him and I am a new woman.The stress of losing my partner of twenty years no longer shows. And thankfully I have been eating well ever since he suggested his book; “The High School Reunion Diet.” (see post: “Cranky Tries a Diet”.) And I have been wearing clothes I haven’t worn in years. And there is actually room in them. And it is not a diet. Because I cannot diet. I think this eating plan might actually be the true “Hollywood Diet Secret” that you read about in the fashion mags. The book is endorsed by Michelle Williams, the star of “My Week With Marilyn,” and Sienna Miller, Rachel Weisz and Adriana Lima, who calls it the “successful model’s secret to glowing skin and a lean, healthy body.” And I am sure they all go to him to get their amazing complexions. That dewy dewy look in “My Week With Marilyn” may not be just good genes. (see post “Behind Every Great Actress is a Great Dermatologist.”)
The book is the perfect thing because you have to make sure you look great in case you run into your ex because they have to see you and feel sorry that they left. Or something.
So the gays and the brilliant dermatologist/diet book author saved the day. “WE COULD’VE HAD IT ALL…….”
Grammy’s With the Gays Saves the Day
