Caterwauling

I’ve been doing a time analysis on my life this week, as my schedule is just a black hole for good intentions.

I’ll spare you the results (it ain’t pretty) but perhaps you might enjoy my morning more than I did:

6 a.m.– Alarm goes off

6:15 a.m.– I awaken, hit snooze

6:24 a.m.– More annoyance from 104.1-FM’s DJs, who are polling people on whether they will donate in the aftermath of Hurricane Rita. Am appalled that majority of callers (at that time) were saying they have no sympathy for those who didn’t vacate for Rita, after seeing what happened to Katrina evacuees. Um, did ya not watch the news last night and see all the Texas interstates more backed up than your colon immediately after eating refried beans?

6:30 a.m.– Pee, feed cats, fire up computer, start working

7:48 a.m.– Have sufficiently scared colleague with visible iTunes playlist. Again. Yes, I do listen to songs that don’t have curse words in the title. Just not when you’re looking. 😉

8:05 a.m.-9 a.m. — Try to turn Cinderella into something less wenchy.

9:05 a.m. — More work pops up — am called on phone, feign poise, don’t mention what I was *really* doing at the time (using a blow dryer, kids, that’s all!)

9:10 a.m. — Realize am topless, so grab first available bra. Work in guchies. Feel oddly liberated.

9:15 a.m. — Realize curtains are open and four men are standing below balcony, trying to peer into my window. I wave.

9:30 a.m. — Get dressed

9:35 a.m. — Decide outfit looks like hell. Go into closet and weep.

9:38 a.m. — Grab another outfit. Pray it doesn’t need to be ironed.

9:40 a.m. — Curse outfit and lack of time to try on more.

9:42 a.m. — Realize slip is way too long for short skirt. Am whore. Take scissors, hack shit out of slip. Remember black asymmetrical spandex skirt of youth that I used to wear for Halloween and, hell, to school.

9:45 a.m. — Leave house. Four men still hanging around outside my front steps. They wave back.

9:46 a.m. — Go to 7-11. Pay $2 for spill-proof cup because I usually end up christening my clothes with their crappy free cups. Cannot actually FASTEN lid onto coffee cup. Must stop and read directions on lid. *sigh* Fool.

9:58 a.m. — Make hairpin turn onto Beltway — lose 17 CDs, all of which go under the gas pedal/brake.

9:59 a.m. — I get the brilliant idea to try to kick the CDs under the seat. My flip-flop falls off. The one on my driving foot. That, in fact, is the only thing to go under the seat.

10 a.m. — Am listening to “Desperate Housewives” soundtrack. Totally chair-dancing. Am loving Martina McBride’s cover of “Harper Valley PTA” — that song was totally my mom’s and my favorite when I was growing up, as she dressed me in short skirts for school and, when notes would be sent home chastising her, she would waltz in with her hoo-ha hanging out, too. Heh.

10:20 a.m. — Arrive at work. Put on cosmetic concealer product. Tip breaks off, rolls down black shirt and onto skirt, leaving long, pale beige trail. Scrub furiously.

10:25 a.m. — Decide to sit on one leg in office chair. Notice I missed a spot shaving. Yell “Fuck! just before bumping said knee off of desk. Whimper and try not to curse again — walls are thin.

10:26 a.m. — Pull out tiny blade-like device I keep handy for emergency eyebrow grooming. Shave offending portion of back of calf. Pray no one walks in to see me with left leg up on desk whilst wearing skirt.

10:28 a.m. — Pull on pantyhose. Pray I didn’t nick myself with dry mini-razor blade.

10:29 a.m. — Wondered whether Amalah had Babalah yet. Walked down hall to find her office moved (we do that a lot). She’s out on leave now anyway, so I may never actually locate her office without breadcrumb trail.

10:30 a.m. — Ready to be working professional. 🙂

This entry was posted on Friday, September 23rd, 2005 at 6:07 AM and is filed under Uncategorized. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. Both comments and pings are currently closed.