Wednesday, January 04, 2006

The Morning, Warts and All

Brainwashing is 98.7% successful—I am now craving grapefruit juice like nobody’s business.

There was a slight wrinkle in the massively ambitious Fit and Fabulous campaign in that I missed my morning exercise “window” due to rolling over and going back to sleep. Obviously this will NEVER happen again.

Grapefruit juice is the acidic dietary equivalent of Liquid Plum’r. It cuts through all the fat and accumulated grease and overholiday indulgence like battery acid. Grapefruit juice is the answer.

I lost a lengthy and very loud (internally) argument with myself this morning that went something like this: You have GOT to get out of bed. It is 6:33. It is now 6:41. Must be out the door no later than 7:14 or the traffic house of cards will implode.

It’s still dark. All three babes sleeping soundly. MZA is down in the blue lit chill of the basement looking at the computer screen. The coffee is made. Elliptical window is completely obliterated. I hope the coal miners in West Virginia are OK.

Showers are good! This is relaxing me-time! Isn’t it? Don’t I have a fancy purple bath scrunchie to fool myself into believing I am getting a loofah type spa experience every morning?!

Getting dressed. Cannot BELIEVE drug store tights are working out. THIS is as exciting as finding out drug store mascara works.

Decide to wear floral purple fantasia skirt (on the verge of being filed in the What Was I Thinking Folder) in order to fool people into believing my entire wardrobe is not, in fact, completely black. Floral skirt, black wool twin set, insouciant long strand of black pearls (yes, they’re real; it’s rude to ask!) to complete the “theme” for today which is (clearly) 1950’s NYC boho, see: Next Stop Greenwich Village. I love that movie. It reminds me of Someone Special (not myself).

The house is dark; the paper is still on the lawn. I go downstairs to kiss MZA goodbye. He says, “Oooo,” I think in reference to my unbelievably foxy “themed” outfit.

Outside, front stoop, every single neighbor’s car is snugly parked in front of each house. There I am, intrepid, dutiful, committed, hardworking (c’mon, play along) headed out into the gray chilliness.

The coal miners in West Virginia are not OK. I am really sad about that.

The traffic’s not too bad. Pull into the garage at 7:47.

Will substitute Diet Coke for the grapefruit juice. Cold caffeine infusion.


Cynicism is another word for reality

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