Wednesday, March 21, 2007
MEN DON'T TRY THIS AT HOME
8 pm and 77 degrees.
It's a cold cold world out there. The pressure. The demands. I couldn't put two words together this morning.
It was dire.
There was only one thing to do.
Get a pedicure.
And my nails done.
Of course my nails lasted as long as it took me to walk to my car. Just before I fished my keys out of my purse and marred the gorgeous pink color.
But I still felt special.
I felt even more special at Safeway. Going up and down the aisles.
Pushing my cart. In my purple slippers.
KNOWING EVERY SINGLE PERSON WAS ENVYING MY TOES. Not.
Kind of like getting an agent.
Thousands clamoring at the door. And I!
I was admitted!
Only to find myself pacing back and forth. Is THIS the day my novel is going to be submitted?
Just a bit more tweaking.
I wanted everyone to admire the fact that I got an agent.
Like my toes.
So bright and shiny.
But they only said. "Gee."
"When's your book coming out?"
And I had to tell them how impressive it is JUST TO HAVE A FRIGGING AGENT!
And they back away slowly.
To get away from me.
Just like that man in the vegetable aisle when I waved my foot in the air inches from his face hissing.
"SEEEEEE????Aren't they beeauuttifuulllll!"
My point is.
The odds are not favorable. But when the stars are aligned you have to be grateful.
I count the days until my book is to be released. And when I simply can't stand it?
I get my feet and nails done.
Then I sit at my computer. Wriggle my toes.
And write about the man I scared off in Safeway.
He's vulnerable. Uneasy. A bank robber?
I start to type.
No something less extreme. Wait! An embezzler.
He's in terrible trouble and works as an accountant for...