The Object of my Frustration

Wow.

So many things seem to have hit at once. I am alternatively exuberant and melancholy.....I go through stretches of the day, singing "I Enjoy Being a Girl" in that annoyingly perky 'Sarah- Jessica-Parker-shilling-for-GAP' way......then I find myself staring in the mirror, angling my face this way and that way - - searching for the first sign of crow's feet or bemoaning the little blemish that could. (You know - - - the one who made a token appearance and just won't go away.)

I have decided being a girl is not necessarily the most fun job on earth. Let me just give you the breakdown on what it takes for Unfortunate Serendipity to get going on any given day.

6:00
The alarm beckons - and is silenced with a thump, as I grumble semi-profanties and burrow back down beneath the covers.

6:25
The first tentative movements begin somewhere down by my right hip. The little bump in the covers begins to migrate upward.

6:27
The bump in the covers finally wiggles its way out. Topher stretches and yawns...then makes a perfunctory nip at my ear - and I swat him away.

6:32
Facedown in the pillow, the back of my head is repeatedly trounced in a left-to-right and right-to-left, 'bound across the bed' romp in morning puppy ritual. I briefly consider at what speed and trajectory a puppy can achieve escape velocity. Instead, I pin him underneath my right knee, against his furious, wiggling protests.

6:35
I doze....Joaquin Phoenix dozes with me. (At least he does in my dreams.)

6:39
I catch the puppy in a vise-like claw-handed grip as he attempts to buzz by my head again. I grumble "Negative Ghostrider, the pattern is full" as I drop his little red butt down onto the floor.

6:40
The alarm clock beckons again. I stumble out of bed and give it a couple of good backhanded shots, which only serve to increase the volume and knock it off of the nightstand. I leave it blaring on the floor as I walk unsteadily to the bathroom.

6:45
Once outside with the dog, I look down and realize that I am clad only in the thinnest of nightgowns - a cordial-red floor length, bias-cut, decolletage-baring number with a sheer back panel. I realize there are people outside. Oh, and it's a little nipply, er nippy. I will Topher to do his business quickly.

6:50
I am beginning to wonder if I could SQUEEZE something out of the dog.

6:55
I give up and pick up the three-pound dog, tuck him against my chest for warmth and coverage, and scurry back inside.

6:55:30
Topher pees on the carpet. I curse all shorthair German badger hunters.

7:00
After cleaning Topher's dime-sized contribution to the carpet, I hit the shower, scrubbing and lathering up.

7:03
I doze. Upright. In the shower. Joaquin Phoenix dozes with me. (hey, it's my dream.)

7:05
I step out of the shower and begin drying my hair. Topher is adamant that my ankles must be licked dry, lest I suffer pneumonia from exposing them to the air to dry on their own.

7:08
I stop to take a look at the frizzed-out mop of unruly red curls springing out in wild abandon. I resolve to cut my hair this week. Not that it will happen. I have been resolving to cut my hair 'this week' for the last four months. I make a half-hearted attempt to tame the tendrils, then declare that they add character to my bohemian look (what bohemian look?) and give them a coating of a silicone-based hair serum. Now it only resembles copper wiring wound into springs.

7:10
I give my first of many exasperated sighs of the day as I face the closet and thumb through the wardrobe for suitable apparel.

7:12
I doze. Upright. In the closet. No, Joaquin Phoenix does not doze with me. He's gone back to bed.

7:14
I finally settle on the outfit du jour. I iron a few pesky wrinkles, nudging Topher away as he tugs on a sleeve or a hem.

7:20
I emerge from the bedroom, tugging at cuffs and straightening my collar...and go looking for my stilleto-heeled black patent leather Bandolino strappy sandals. I locate the left sandal in the closest. The right sandal? It's missing in action.

7:23
Still in search of missing sandal.

7:27
Searching....still.

7:30
Notice Topher is also missing.

7:31
My analytical skills begin to kick in. Missing dog AND missing shoe. Sadly enough, I am more concerned for the shoe's welfare.

7:35
My impending Amber alert is not necessary. Missing canine and footwear are located in the northeast corner of my bedroom...under the bed. Canine is not too thrilled to have to relinquish his chew toy. I am not sympathetic.

7:40
I place the canine out on the patio, where he immediately goes into separation anxiety mode. He whines, nay - he screeches out his fears of abandonment, quaking in fear...positive that I am never to return - - WAIT! What's that over there? A pig's ear chew? He forgets that I even exist.

7:42
I exit the Villa d'Freeman and walk to my car, noticing that someone has parked perpendicular to my row and blocked me and three other cars in. I stew silently. The driver in the car parked beside me is slightly more vocal...honking his horn and yelling in the vicinity of an open apartment door. I didn't quite hear him...but I think he was making statements about the nocturnal activities that the driver of the abandoned car has with his or her maternal unit. I was too busy fiddling with the radio to care.

7:47
The abandoned car is reclaimed by its owner...who doesn't seem to care that there are three drivers blocked by his vehicle. I fear for his personal safety if he chooses to return to the complex. I am not particularly violent...but am rethinking my commitment to peaceful conflict resolution.

7:50
I arrive at the evil mecca known as Starbucks...where I am greeted in true 'Norm' from Cheers fashion. I think it's a sign that I visit my neighborhood coffee beanery a little too often. I don't even get a chance to open my mouth before someone does a call-out for my solo grande mocha frappuchino.

7:57
I whip onto Irving Blvd and make a charge to get ahead of the eighteen-wheeler who is bound and determined to swerve from lane to lane - like a drunken Shaquille O'Neal defending the basket. I manage to roll around the block and get ahead of him.

8:08
I arrive at work. And realize I have no makeup on. Forget it. I don't care. Lip gloss and mascara, and I am golden.

See? It's a comedy of errors for me to simply get out of the house.