"Are you gonna remember this tomorrow Eddie, or is this, you know, one of your more biodegradable moments?" -Hurly Burly
And just when I get the brink of throwing myself under the six train, the universe steps in and says, "Um, no. You aren't allowed to do that just yet."
Last weekend when I was at Chez Lapin, I ordered a pair of Volatile brand high heels from Shoemall. Buying shoes is, for me, only slightly less depressing that modeling swimwear under fluorescent lights while Elle McPherson changes in the stall next to me. The foot deformity is only part of the fun-being a size five certainly doesn't help. But Volatile makes short wide shoes that are very comfy. So I took a risk and ordered them to go with my birthday ensemble.
Yesterday they were at my door. I tried them on. They fit. To me, this is only slightly less exciting than finding out that my snuggly blanket from childhood is actually the Shroud of Turin.
Then I managed to shuttle myself to Tin Lizzy's Christmas Party. There is very little that some good food, free liquor, and a pack of doting old gentleman can improve upon. They cheered me up and after six hours of drinking I was happy and satisfied-having fended off a panoply of suitors. I slept late to wake up to a happy sunny day and whole pack of concerned comments. ( We shall ignore the mountain of grading and calculating that await me later today. Run away! Run away!) I do, however, continue to need sleep.
This is not to say that I might not completely decompose later today. But I do feel better. And it does mean a lot to me how many of wrote comments so that I didn't continue to drink martinis out of the toilet.

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