Thursday, July 21, 2005

a margarita a day...

does it keep the blues away?









feeling useless and aimless and directionless, waistless...whatever-less. i just don't weigh less. dammit.

i'm wondering. i desperately want to test my theory. something frozen and fruity and highly-alcoholic might very well color my blues, at least temporarily, right?

on my lunch hour, i walked past an embarassingly colorful chain restaurant near my work that offers ginormous portions of tex mex food. the food, swimming in fluorescent orange pools of lard, did not appeal at all. what did? the little paper tent on the table beckoned me...a watermelon margarita. ole. tempted to dive in and disappear into a tequila and watermelon haze. should i? should i slip in and have a margarita on my lunch hour? surely, it would make everything seem a little better for a little while, wouldn' t it? would they know? would they smell the tequila on my breath back at the office? i could just say it was a new Demeter fragrance, "i just popped into sephora for a little spritz..."




nah i am, at heart, a goody two shoes, and work, while not particularly stimulating currently, still offers a good job, decent pay, and marvelously intelligent people that alternately challenge me to be a better person and confirm my worst suspicions...

they are all smarter than you. you, my dear, change toner. the highlight of your day is the walnut, blue cheese, beet, + baby spinach salad you eat every day for lunch. these people are changing the world. you're just eating it.

(wow. if i were dating myself, i would so break up with me. wouldn't you?)

but. it's a job, and i do not want to lose it. besides, that sort of behavior smacks way too much of a little disease called alcoholism. my family has the unique distinction of counting many of its members proficient in the art of dipsomania, but this apple is choosing to fall far from that dysfunctional tree.

so, i did not order the margarita. i bought myself a sparkly necklace with beads that match the color of my eyes (what i like to self-indulgently call amber-hazel) at a local flea market instead. and yes, i ate my requisite spinach salad. i am now sitting at my desk surrounded by brilliance incarnate, waiting for my muscles to grow, and try-try-trying to remember popeye's philosophy as it applies to me...

"i yam what i yam."


Anonymous said...

No matter how brilliant the people you work with are, they couldn't save the world if their printer only spewed forth blank sheets of paper. Seems to me you help people who are saving the world. Fairly Noble Task indeed.

Anonymous said...

many times i am amazed by your writing. even when you're complaining and indulgently musing, you are graceful. i'm captivated, want you to say/reveal more...Compared to me you are highly functioning, well disciplined and living life at the center of the world. what a damn spectacular woman you are. keep up the good work. stay away from too much alcohol.

Anonymous said...

I can't top the comments above. I just wanna say the very moment I read the words "goody two shoes" in your article, the Adam Ant song of that exact title came out of my radio. Coincidence? I think not. There are no coincidences- only incredible woman such as yourself.

karma said...

my family has the unique distinction of counting many of its members proficient in the art of dipsomania,

mine all have a unibrow gene and a "motherly thighs" gene. i'm not really sure which is worse.

margrocks said...

well, thank you thank you thank you for all of your words of encouragement, anonymous x 3. i suppose we're all incredible in our own ways, eh?

and karma, tough call...