Today I woke up with this child like enthusiasm that it would be a great day. The sun was shining into my room, my down comforter was nice an cozy, and I had crazy amounts of energy. I actually left my apartment on time and played around with bits of soft fresh snow as I walked down the block. I really had high hopes that today would be a great day.
The minute I stepped foot into the office the day took a nose dive, burst into flames, and turned to smoking ash right in front of me. It was one of those days when you feel like you need 5 clones to survive the amount of work thrown at you. Everyone's mood swings created a game of emotional dominoes. When one person lost it on another, that person carried the energy into another conversation, and so forth. Everything I did today was apparently wrong, yet no different from any other day. Every task was a priority, but because I am only a human with two hands I was apparently too slow.
One perk in fashion is the fabulous gay coworker. I have one who always manages to cheer me up and build my self esteem back up after days when people try their best to tear it down. He always says "I wish I was you, tall, blonde, smart, and GORG!" I always find this amusing as he has a fabulous life, while I feel I am always struggling.
Two hours before the end of a banker's work day I found myself standing in front of one of the world's most prominent fashion designers taking the brunt of his massive meltdown. I tried to smooth it over and help him see that I was just a messenger. In the end, the messenger was basically assassinated. I walked like a puppy with it's tail between it's legs back to my boss, who simply dismissed me. I then found myself in a closet mouthing "Italy, Italy, Italy" like I expected an Italian Beetlejuice to pop out of the filing cabinet. I was barely able to hold it together as all of this pressure fell on top of the stress of an ex's harassment. I have been getting constant calls and texts from the ex I wrote about in "Nightmare Before Christmas". I have spoken to police, only to find out they can do nothing. So he text me that he was going to wait at a restaurant on my block and later called to tell me I didn't show up. It is getting out of hand.
Cut to 8pm and I am finally leaving the office in search of a strong cucumber Kettle One martini.
11pm I am riding home in a cab that smells of dead squirrel
11:30pm I actually manage to eat something
It is now almost 1:30am and I am exhausted.
Another glamorous day in fashion!
*Aries*
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