Wednesday, June 13
Still recovering from a bad reunion with Chinese food and the ruin of my last clean work shirt. Had no quarters for the machine, so borrowed my roommate’s favorite Elie Tahari cashmere sweater and paired it with a cotton peasant skirt that my sister gave me after her pregnancy.
Received a huge number of compliments at the office about the sweater. Was considering borrowing it permanently until I noticed that the loose wire from my bra had torn a gaping hole under the armpit. Dredged up lessons from Girl Scout camp to make emergency repairs using a nail file and rubber bands. Walked out with my head held high and my replica Gucci strategically slung over my shoulder.
Thursday, June 14
Roommate and I no longer speaking, so jumped into my Kia Sportage and headed up Route 1 to visit my mother for dinner. Wore the striped rainbow cardigan Auntie Nan knitted for me when I was sixteen and a pair of Lands End khakis that Mom ordered after she claimed my skinny jeans were giving me a cloven hoof.
Managed to accidentally spill a bottle of cranberry juice over the left leg of the khakis and most of the kitchen floor. Was forced to stay until midnight washing it out of the fur of Mom’s one-eyed Pomeranian.
Friday, June 15
Due to meet my best friend at Slim Jim’s at seven. Couldn’t decide between a one-shoulder sateen mini with sequin detailing that I found on a 50% off rack at Target or a sea green Calvin Klein A-line that I stole from a gym bag last month. Went instead with Old Reliable, a Carmen red bandage number with built-in Spanx. Accented it with Christian Louboutin stilettos from Times Square and a black Victoria’s Secret thong.
Slim Jim’s had been napalmed, so moved on to Fusion. Have vague memories of crouching on a table singing “Moves like Jagger” to a group of fertilizer reps from Topeka. Gained a Tan Portly sport coat from Men’s Warehouse and lost one Louboutin to a sticky bathroom floor. Just call me Cinderella.
Saturday, June 16
Woke up in an unfamiliar apartment feeling like my eyes had been used for cocktail olives. Looked down to discover what I was wearing. Discovered I was wearing nothing. Threw on a crumpled pink check shirt that smelled of coconut rum and Lucky Strikes and searched for Old Reliable. Found it in the garbage disposal.
Sunday, June 17
Never got out of my Hello Kitty pajamas. Being one-eighth Catholic, I typically save Sundays for a private orgy of self-flagellation and bingeing on Cool Ranch Doritos. While the water was boiling for my instant coffee, I threw on a raincoat that smelled of mold and an ex-boyfriend’s old work boots from Cabela’s to check on my herb planter. Unearthed three cigarette butts, one beer bottle, eight stalks of dead rosemary and a sprig of mint. Used beer bottle to crush the mint for a mojito.
Monday, June 18
Took the day off to recharge my creative juices. Spent the morning in Hello Kitty flipping between E! Online and WebMD and tweeting updates on my flu symptoms. Paused at eleven to watch fan videos of Darcy from Pride & Prejudice. Wondered idly what kinds of flesh-eating bacteria might have been in the pond when they made him swim through it. Ignored persistent messages from Tan Portly.
In the afternoon, I changed into my shopping armor – baby blue Yale t-shirt, two-tone stretch sweats and Skechers Shape Ups – and headed for the mall. Jogged through the parking lot and up the escalator to get in my exercise for the week. Shocked to run into Tan Portly in the women’s dressing room at H&M until I learned he was helping his sister choose a bikini. Advised her to rein in the girls (and the cellulite) with a daisy-sprigged balconette. Bought a Hawaiian-inspired bandeau for myself.
Tuesday, June 19
Tan Portly’s alarm started playing the theme tune from Mighty Mouse at seven thirty, so I was up with the birds. Removed the bandeau and dressed carefully in my most unflattering Ann Taylor suit, leftover from last year’s interviews. To get the right skin tone of a recovering patient, I made up with a pasty foundation given as a freebie at an Avon party. Finished off the look with sensible navy pumps and nude stockings with a small ladder in the thigh.
By nine the ladder had stretched to the calf, so I took off my stockings at my desk. Got a quick perv from my boss and a stern warning from Glinda the Human Resources Witch about business propriety. Thought to hell with it, life is short, and dropped in a dead faint at her feet. Left at ten with instructions to rest and stopped off on the way home to max out my credit card on bayberry-scented tapers, a copy of US Magazine and a silky rayon bathrobe from Walmart. Kept the return receipt.