Friday, March 12, 2004
Smarvelous
I work eight hours a day surrounded by screaming germ bags and their idiot parents. It is hollow, repetitive and boring, punctuated by periods of tear-your-hair-out madness. I'm bored with this life, and I'm sure you don't want to hear about it. Therefore, I'm going to write a fictional entry about my fabulous, glamorous life (a la Sex in the City):
Today, I woke up later than usual. The one problem with pillow-top mattresses and 500 thread count sheets is that they feel like the womb, and I'm often as reluctant to leave as a fetus. So I didn't manage to tumble out of bed until noon, by which time I simply had to get to the Four Seasons to meet 'E.' I took a quick shower, threw on my Chanel suit (Very Jackie-O) and because I was feeling saucy, I passed over the Audi and Mercedes and opted for the Jaguar. I barreled out of Mercer Island at about 75 miles per hour, but the rich person's lane was unusually full for the time of day and as we approached Seattle, I was forced to slow to a maddening 60.
I pushed a button on the dashboard. "Robot Car... Please call 'E' and tell her I'll be late please." It always pays to be extra polite to your artificially intelligent automobile.
The light blinked and a soothing feminine voice glided through the surround-sound speakers. "Yes Mistress... making call now. If I may say, you sound as if you are experiencing stress. Shall I also schedule a hair, skin, eye and massage treatment at the Magnifico Spa?"
My entire body melted at just the mention of the Magifico. My skin smelled like cinnamon rolls for days after a visit. But I demurred, thinking how simply packed my schedule was that day.
"No thank you Car. Pretty please call my agent and confirm that the 'We Love Everything Katherine Turner Ever Wrote' Ceremony is indeed tonight, and confirm that all three of my lovers will be available for dinner before, during and after the festivities." I thought about what I was missing... "Oh yes, be a dear and have all my enemies assassinated, and call my personal trainer for a virtual workout. That's CALL my personal trainer, not KILL him... I don't want a repeat of what happened last time."
The car set about its tasks and I settled back into the rich Cornithian Leather. My life was simply perfect and wonderful in every way.
