Rejection

I had so hoped Napoleon, Caleb and Randi* were happy, safe and warm, living indoors in Cleveland. Caleb and I had said our goodbyes week of 11/6, and at that time he told me the kind of embarrassing, personal things that are easier to share with someone you're never going to see again. Now I know how he became homeless. It's a story I'll post someday. Or not. It's very depressing.

Anyway, he was hopeful and enthusiastic about a fresh start with a steady job in Cleveland. Randi was going to take her boards and resume working as a hair stylist. Napoleon would live indoors for the first time in his life. It was all going to be good.

Today, unfortunately, I saw Caleb and Napoleon on their usual corner again. Napoleon was delighted to see me, climbing up my leg and wanting to play. Caleb had the blues ... bad.

It seems that the company that had trained him and made him an offer to be a window washer rescinded it. It was taking him "too long" to make his way out to Cleveland. They had wanted him to start sometime in October and now here it was, November, and there were still obstacles and so basically they said, "don't bother."

This little family had been counting on this! Caleb blames the bad news for Randi's chest cold, thinking it's a psychosomatic manifestation of her depression. I don't know ... it's also flu season. But still, I can imagine how devastating this news was for them. He said she resting in their tent this afternoon while he tried to raise the funds ($46) for them to sleep indoors tonight. I put $6 in his cup but had to run to the bank and then back to the office.

Meanwhile, we had a Friendsgiving gettogether at the office. Everyone brought something -- I brought Frango mints -- and there was a ton of food leftover. I ran back outside with a plate of turkey for Caleb, a little extra gravy for Napoleon and donuts and the zinc lozenges from my last cold for Randi.

He mentioned that he was going to apply for jobs as a forklift driver and as a seasonal helper at the USPS, but that it's hard to be considered when you don't have a permanent address. I mentioned to him that soon Christmas tree vendors would need part time help and that's when he said he'd forgotten how soon Thanksgiving would be here. Now that the job has fallen though, he tends to forget the day and date. That made me sad.

I told him I had a warm coat I'd try to bring for Randi and he thanked me, saying he also hopes I'll bring him some books so we can discuss them. He likes talking books. Then I went back to the office.

What will happen to these two now? Funny, but I no longer worry so much about Napoleon. He's so happy, knowing he's loved, and he has so much food donated by passersby, and a clean box. He doesn't understand how close he was to life as an indoor cat, so he's not sad about the lost opportunity. But Caleb is heartbroken about the setback and now Randi is sick.

I am nagged by realization that there are approximately 2000 "unsheltered" homeless people in The Loop. Caleb and Randi (and Napoleon) just make it more real to me.

*Why can I never remember her name? It's Randi!

The ground felt solid under my feet

Last week, the brother of my friend Kathleen contacted me with the offer of a freelance project. He has started his own IT company and wants to promote it through a series of emails. The thing is: how many emails? What should they say?

I went over my work with him today at lunchtime. He seemed pleased by the positionings I'd devised for his product, and took notes as I told him how I arrived at them. He listened intently when I explained the way the content was structured, so that it would appeal to the reader whether he was looking at a phone or a laptop.

He's a smart guy, and he thought I was impressive. What a boon that was for my bruised ego!

Oh yeah, and so far I have earned $260 toward my Christmas trip to Key West. The final tally should be between $400 and $600. That makes me happy, too.

I hate this

Al Franken, too.

Meanwhile, back at the office ...

The drama continues. It turns out that the merger with the St. Louis agency may not happen after all. No one talks about it, so I can't say for sure what happened. Apparently it "fell through." Or maybe it didn't. I don't know. It simply no longer seems to be on anyone's radar.

But Thursday at 11:00, we begin talking about our merger with the New York office. Now that's official and definitely happening. It's complicated, but here's the topline ...

1) No one in the New York office will work on my client's business anymore

2) Their salaries, and their billings, will be moved to the Chicago office

3) This means there are now more than 35 open slots in our office, that HR will begin looking to fill come Monday

4) But there weren't 35 New York employees working on my client's business. So what gives?

5) Supposedly the more expensive, senior New York employees will be replaced by more junior and more affordable bodies. In short -- more people at the same price point.

6)  And we will all be "reorganized."

I don't know for sure what any of this means for me, except that I think I'm OK through February 15.

I can foresee a scenario where I meet and interview my own more junior and affordable replacement. I can also foresee a scenario where my position stays exactly as it is right now.

I don't know. Maybe I'll learn more tomorrow. Maybe I won't.

I don't want to let this ruin my birthday/Thanksgiving/Christmas celebrations, so I'm trying to stay zen about it all.*

Thanks to everyone who has been thinking about me. I appreciate your support, and I'm just trying to take it one day at a time.

*And if you think I'm successful, you haven't been reading this worryfest of a blog.

What do these two trophies have in common?

The Oscar and the World Series Trophy are connected.  In 1944, Casablanca won three Oscars -- Best Picture, Best Director and Best Screenplay. It was written by Julius and Philip Epstein. In 2004 and 2007, the Boston Red Sox won the World Series Trophy and in 2016, my beloved Chicago Cubs won their first World Series Trophy in 108 years. The 2004/2007 Sox and the 2016 Cubs were led by baseball executive Theo Epstein.

Julius and Philip Epstein were brothers. They began their career as well-paid "script doctors," brought in by Warner Bros. to punch up the dialog on dozens of scripts, usually without credit.When they got an opportunity to actually work on their own stuff, they did it with relish. When Howard Koch approached them to adapt a short story called, "Everyone Comes to Rick's," they came up with some of the most-quoted dialog in film history:

Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine.

We'll always have Paris.

Round up the usual suspects.

Louis, I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

Play it, Sam. Play "As Time Goes By."

Here's looking at you, kid.

Philip Epstein had a grandson (meaning Julius had a grand nephew). His name is Theo. First, as Red Sox general manager and then (fabulously) here with the Cubs, Theo ended baseball's two longest droughts by bringing the World Series to two victory-starved cities.

Unfortunately, Philip and Julius had passed away by the time Theo brought new millennium glory to the family name. But isn't theirs just the most fantastic gene pool?

All of this is top of mind because my movie group took a field trip to see a special TCM-sponsored screening of the restored Casablanca. In a special video intro, Ben Mankiewicz reminded us of the Epstein connection. (He know what he's talking about, as the Mankiewicz clan is pretty impressive, too.)

We get it, Chuck. We've always gotten it.

I just saw Chuck Todd interview Sen. Amy Kobuchar on Meet the Press. He asked her if Democrats assume some responsibility for decades of sexual harassment because of the pass he thinks Bill Clinton received in the 1990s.

First of all, Bill Clinton didn't receive a pass. He was impeached. Yes, I know he was charged with perjury and (are you listening, Donald Trump?) obstruction of justice. But if you ask anyone on the street why Bill was impeached, you'll hear, "Monica Lewinsky." The 42nd President of the United States' legacy is forever tainted.

Second, women have always understood how ugly Bill's behavior was during the Lewinsky scandal. Here is what I wrote about it in 2010.

The prompt was to write a letter to "a hero that has let you down." I haven't changed a syllable. I don't have to.

Dear Mr. President:

Every time I think of you, that old Laura Nyro song starts playing in my head. You know the one, "BILL! I love you so, I always will ..."

And I did and I do. But you broke my heart.

It wasn't the infidelity that bothered me. Hell, I'm a Kennedy girl. I grew up believing we can and should separate personal behavior from public performance.

It was the way you allowed your good ol' boy horndog behavior to seep from the personal to the public that makes me nuts. You did a young and emotionally vulnerable girl in the Oval Office! How did you think you were going to get away with that? And I don't for a moment think you cared for that poor kid. You saw more interesting, more attractive women every day on the rope line in front of the White House (remember, this was before 9/11 when we could tour 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue). You chose her simply because she was there, and you did her simply because you could. And then you not only lied about it, you demeaned her ("I never had sexual relations with that woman ..."). The imbalance of power between you two and your fates appalls me. YOU were the most powerful man in the free world, YOU were the one with a wife and daughter (a daughter not that much older than your mistress). Yet today you remain one of the most popular men on the planet, and she's a punchline, a synonym for oral sex. How is that fair?


You're a good man and you have done a lot of good. But you had the capacity to do more and be a great man. I believed in you, and you let me down. You let the nation down. And you let yourself down. Every account of your presidency will include the phrase, "impeached by the House of Representatives."

And yet ... and yet ... When you talk about the Clinton Global Initiative, I'm transfixed. When I watched you walk Chelsea down the aisle, I got misty. Every time you have a health problem, I say a little prayer.

So even though you broke my heart, I love you so, and I always will.

Sunday Stealing

The Simple Life


What are five things you would like to do more.
1) Exercise
2) Volunteer
3) Read
4) Write for pleasure
5) Attend church
 

What is your quote to live by

 

What was the best thing that happened this week?

Friday evening, I got a new pair of contact lenses. YEA! Those glasses were really cramping my style.

What is something you are stressed about?

Ha! There's a possibility that I'll be let go on November 15. I believe that's worth a sleepless night or two.

What book has influenced your life?

Saving Graces by Elizabeth Edwards. I read it a decade ago, and I still think about it.

Share a childhood memory

The Christmas I was in second grade, Santa brought me this very poster. Which I hung on my bedroom door and kissed every morning and night. 

What fictional character would you most like to be?

Mary Poppins, because she was practically perfect in every way.

What is something you are proud of?

I have given good homes to the cats I've rescued. 

What was the last thing you celebrated?

Last weekend, I had lunch with my friend Nancy for the first time in months, and I gave her a mug ("Potent potables for $20, Alex") to celebrate her appearance as a contestant on Jeopardy.

What are weird things you like?

I watch very weird TV. Like Autopsy: The Last Hours of .... And What's My Line? from the 1950s.

What is your favorite song to sing?

I found myself singing along to "Memories" with Elvis. "Holding hands and red bouquets and twilights trimmed in purple haze ..." The King sounded so sincere on those ballads.

Name three things you do well.

1)  Bonding with critters

2)  Present to clients

3)  Laundry (I hate it, but I'm good at it)

What are your priorities in life?

I try to live by the Golden Rule. 

What is something that scares you?

Losing my job on November 15.

 
Best book you read this year?

Perhaps it's the sin of recency, but I'll go with the one I just finished, Rosemary: The Hidden Kennedy Daughter. Haunting and heartbreaking.

It gives me hope

Anika is an Indian-born market researcher who has worked at my agency for four years now. Early in her career here, she sat outside the office I share with my coworkers and did the most wonderful thing: she surprised me with a Christmas present for being "the most thoughtful person I've ever had the good fortune of knowing. You spread holiday cheer year around." Because she sees me that way, I work hard to be a good person, to live up to her expectation.

This past week, she showed what an extraordinary woman she is.

She's been researching marketing to the LGBTQ community, which is important to our clients because demographically-speaking, gay HHs have an impressive amount of disposable income. Yet while she was collecting data, she worried she was missing nuance. After all, she grew up in India, where homosexuality is still illegal. Since she's been in Chicago, she's watched us all become more accepting and welcoming, but she doesn't know a single "out" LGBTQ American.

Without any prompting, she approached our HR department and asked how to find a gay coworker to help her craft a more sensitive and inclusive presentation. Her request gave Human Resources a pause. Sexuality is not a box to be ticked on any form. But they put Anika in touch with Andy, a numbers-cruncher at one of our sister agencies, who is out and proud and just thrilled to be involved with something more creative than monthly billing.

Anika and Andy's presentation was well attended (yes, lunch was provided) and sensitive. At times, I welled up. Partly because of the content -- I was thinking of my friends John and Henry and Reg and the obstacles they have faced, and how far our society has come in accepting them. Partly because of the fact of it.

I mean, here was Anika. Reaching out. Going beyond her upbringing, working hard to assimilate into her chosen country and to open her heart. I find this so moving, and it gives me hope.

Saturday 9

Saturday 9: Get Down Tonight (1975)

1) Tonight, KC has three things on his "to-do" list: do a little dance, make a little love and get down. Tell us three things you'd like to accomplish this weekend. 1) Make a dent in that freelance project I took on. It's not due until Thursday, but I'd like to knock it out now and then spend the rest of the week refining it. 2) Laundry. There's always laundry. 3) Attend a special screening of Casablanca with Will and my movie group.

 

2) This week's song is considered emblematic of disco, a genre that had as many detractors as fans. Is there a kind of music you simply cannot stand? That would be disco. (Though I admit a certain fondness of the Brothers Gibb.)

3) Before becoming a musician, KC, aka Harry Casey, worked in a record store. In those days, record stores were very popular. Peaches, Coconuts, Sam Goody and Tower Records are four store chains that once dotted the landscape but now are gone. Today, if you wanted to purchase a CD, where would you turn? Amazon. I always check out the ones I see by the register at Starbucks, Walgreen's and Whole Foods, but I seldom buy.

4) One of his duties at the record store was unloading the big corrugated shippers filled with LPs. What's the heaviest thing you've lifted lately? My fat ass.

5) KC is proud that he's lived his entire life in Miami-Dade County. Do you expect to change your address in the next year or so? No.

6) In 1975, the year this song was popular, former Teamsters boss Jimmy Hoffa disappeared, never to be seen again. Many theories flourish about what may have happened to him. Is there a famous criminal case that has a hold on your attention? I recently befriended a pair of millennials who had absolutely no idea who Patty Hearst is. I suppose that's a good thing for Patty, but it got me thinking about her case again. I picked up Jeffrey Toobin's 2016 book on the case and it's waiting on my TBR pile.

7) Jaws was the most popular movie of 1975. Are you afraid of sharks? Not especially.
 
8) Actress Angelina Jolie was born in 1975. People magazine once named her

"most beautiful." Who is the most beautiful woman you can think of? Every time I see CNN's Erin Burnett, I think, "God, I wish I looked like her."

9) Random question: A wizard offers you a choice -- would you like your life to stay as it is right now (in terms of your health, your career, your relationships and your finances) for the next 5 years, or would you like to take a chance that the future will be brighter? I'm frankly terrified of the future. I'd like to stay frozen here. At least I know this life.

Friday 56

The Friday 56

Rules:

*Grab a book, any book.
*Turn to page 56 or 56% in your eReader
(If you have to improvise, that's ok.)
*Find any sentence, (or few, just don't spoil it)
*Post it. 

From A Murder Is Announced by Agatha Christie. Everyone in a small British town (Chipping Cleghorn, I love that name!) reads the ads placed by their neighbors in The Gazette.  Amid the help wanted's and the puppies for sale, they find one announcing a murder. At 6:30 PM. At an exact address. The woman who lives at that address didn't place the notice. Everyone assumes it was a prank or a game and her neighbors assemble at her home at 6:30 to see what happens. 

Instead of good fun, something terrifying occurs. The lights go out, shots are fired, and ....  Inspector Craddock is called. He begins questioning the attendees. One guest points a finger at the household help.

From page 56:

"Mitzi's mixed up in it! Awful temper she has, and oh! The airs she gives herself!"

And in this corner ...

I feel sorry for Brian, our condo board president. He has become the leavening influence in the battle between me (the secretary) and John (the treasurer). Or, as I've come to think of us, Norma Rae and Ayn Rand.

A little background: For at least 10 years, this building has had a rule against renting. The reasoning? The more rental units a condo building has, the more expensive the insurance on the common areas. There is also some evidence that renters are not as careful about their homes as owners. I must admit I don't care whether or not we have renters. I was a renter for most of my adult life and can attest I am just as lazy a housekeeper as an owner.

But the "no rental" rule is in the by-laws. When he buys in our building, every owner agrees to live in his unit. And I believe in rules being fairly enforced. Nearly 30% of our building is now illegal renters. That's not fair to all us who follow the rules. Plus, there's a security problem: our management company does not have contact information for these renters because they've rented illegally and the landlords don't admit they're there. This pisses the village off, because there's no resident to contact in case of emergency.

I came on the board back in April, and we talked about the problem back then. It wasn't a priority, really. We had more immediate problems -- a leak in the ceiling over the stairwell, a balky coin slide on one of the dryers in the laundry room, a problem with the water meter reading ...

Last month we met again to discuss the budget. Obviously we need more money. We always do, if we want to do everything that needs to be done around here. The matter of renters came up again. Our management company said a way to bring more money in is to fine the owners who rent. We can legally demand to see the leases and fine them for all the months they've been renting. We can assess them in advance for the $175 move-out fee. And we can set a date certain that their tenants have to be gone. If the renters remain, the owners can be fined even more.

"Let's do it!" Our treasurer was so enthusiastic. "Ayn Rand" is all about personal responsibility. The owners knew they were breaking the rules. He wanted to send out a letter, dated October 31, that deemed all renters were evicted as of November 30.

"No!" countered "Norma Rae." I reasoned that was unnecessarily punitive to renters, who signed their leases in good faith and don't realize they are living in illegal apartments. 30 days to find a new home  when there aren't many apartments for rent? At a time when kids are still in school? Over Thanksgiving?

That's me in the beige trunks.

No fucking way am I signing off on that. And no one can make me.

"OK," Ayn Rand responded. "60 days." Then he warned me that, if people realize they can appeal to my conscience, they'll use that against me. What the fuck! Of course you can appeal to my conscience! I have no intention of changing!

Besides, 60 days puts us to Christmas/New Year's. And, undoubtedly, snow. I will not literally throw my neighbors out into the snow. Oh, and by the way, if we're all about "personal responsibility," then as a board we have to own the fact that we didn't act on this problem in April. I told him that, if he had wanted to send a letter out on May 1, having everyone out on June 30, I would have been amenable. But we didn't bother to investigate our options until October. Shame on us. Now we have to accept the responsibility of that oversight.

I suggested the letter go out January 1 and give the tenants until August 15 to move out. Now I know that was too generous. I really wanted June 15, so the later date was just my negotiation tactic.

As the emails between Norma Rae and Ayn Rand got more heated, our president weighed in. When I received the message that began, "Gal, bless your heart ..." I knew I wasn't going to get everything I wanted.

But I got a lot.

We're working with the lawyers on a letter that will go out December 1, giving the owners/tenants notice that all renters have to be out by May 31. The board will collect a lot in fines and penalties, which will enable us to make some of the renovations everyone wants without an increase in assessments (which no one wants).

And we'll all live happily ever after.

WWW.WEDNESDAY

WWW. WEDNESDAY asks three questions to prompt you to speak bookishly. To participate, and to see how other book lovers responded, click here. 

1. What are you currently reading? A Murder Is Announced, by Agatha Christie. Everyone in the small English town of Chipping Cleghorn reads the ads in The Gazette. Amid "help wanted's" and "dachshunds for sale" notices is one that reads, "A murder is announcd and will take place on Friday, October 29, at Little Paddocks at 6:30 PM ..." The woman who lives at "Little Paddocks" didn't place the ad, and that's only the first mysterious thing to happen. What appears at first to be a prank and a game turns into a real murder. Thank goodness Miss Jane Marple just so happens to be there. 

In addition to the sleepy British charm is the mystery of this paperback. Published in 1991, it was on the shelf at the Charlestown Branch of the Boston Public Library until June 8, 1995, when it was "withdrawn for discard." How did it make its way to a library book sale in a suburb of Chicago? How many hands held it before me? I simply love the romance of used books.  

2. What did you recently finish reading?  Rosemary: The Hidden Kennedy Daughter by Kate Clifford Lawson.  There is so much pain on the pages of this book. Joe and Rose Kennedy's third child and first daughter was "different." In the first half of the 20th century, America wasn't kind, understanding or accepting of children with learning disabilities. There was no differentiation between mentally challenged and mentally ill. The stigma the families of these children faced was unfair and bruising.

Rosie faced special challenges. Her eight siblings were exceptional. Legendary. Among her brothers and sisters were a marchioness, an activist, an ambassador, a war hero, two Senators and a President. Yet Rosemary couldn't cut her own meat. While she was physically and mentally challenged, she was not unaware. She knew her siblings loved her and she loved them -- one at a time -- but her competitive and gifted family overwhelmed her. Her frustration at being outflanked by her siblings gave way to rage. These fits made it impossible to keep her at home, yet, despite all their money and power, the Kennedys couldn't find a school to educate and care for her. They refused to institutionalize her, because in those dark days, institutions weren't hospitals, they were warehouses that kept patients alive, but little more. This led her father to make a tragic, irreversible decision about his oldest, prettiest daughter.

I'm glad this book finally told her story. For Rosemary Kennedy inspired her brothers and those brothers championed the landmark legislation that made life better for other families with special children. When one of the country's most famous families admitted they had a mentally challenged sister, it helped remove much of the stigma that undeniably existed in America at that time. Without Rosemary, her sister Eunice would not have been as furiously dedicated to making The Special Olympics the internationally influential organization it is today. Rosemary is a historic figure not because of anything specific she accomplished, but because of how much she was loved. That was powerful and enormously moving. (With Emma Stone slated to play her in the upcoming movie, Rosemary's story will reach even more of us.)

This one will stay with me for a long time.

 

3.  What will you read next? Maybe another mystery? Or a biography

 

The Napoleon and Ollie Show

I saw Napoleon and his "mom" on their usual street corner. It was after dark and about 40º. She was wearing a couple layers of t-shirts under her hoodie and they were both sitting on blankets to protect them from the cold cement. Napoleon, however, was styling. Decked out in a happening little rust colored vest with a fleece collar. From a distance, he looked like puppy.

I found out his vest was originally bought for a chihuahua, who promptly outgrew it and so the dog owner gave it to Napoleon, who loves it. Or at least didn't resist it and didn't let it restrict his motion. That's one of the best things about my involvement with Napoleon and his humans: seeing how generous my fellow Chicagoans can be. Mom was eating pizza from a Giordano's box -- clearly someone had shared their leftovers with her. And Napoleon's food, both canned and kibble, was plentiful.

While we were talking, a young woman came by with Ollie, a lively dog with a curly tail (a shiba inu?). He and Napoleon are good pals, and they were delightful together. Napoleon dropped to his back and wriggled on the sidewalk while Ollie nuzzled his tummy. Then he let Ollie sniff his butt -- but only for a Napoleon-prescribed period of time. Then he turned and gave his canine companion a swift slap on the nose. This commenced a brief interlude of rough house, interrupted when Ollie caught sight of Napoleon's food dish and decided cat food looked good to him. His owner intervened.

She also gave Napoleon a new shirt, a gift from Ollie. It's a tiny dog onesie that says, "I love my mom," and it's decorated with a pawprint. It delighted Napoleon's mom. "Get! Out!" she laughed in delight. I have learned that this is a happy part of her day: chatting with other women, purely as a pet mom. Not as a homeless woman.

Even though Napoleon virtually ignored me, I'm glad I got to see this performance of the Napoleon and Ollie Show. For it does look like the curtain will be coming down soon. Caleb, his wife and Napoleon expect to be on a bus to Cleveland tomorrow or Thursday. They are waiting for a form, duly signed by a judge, to come back to the Chicago Legal Clinic.

Getting Caleb's long-ago, teenage shoplifting conviction expunged from his record has turned out to be free and surprisingly easy -- once he learned how to do it. I'm proud that I was able to put him in touch with a lawyer who was able to handle to paperwork so now he can go on and get a job.

This job as a window washer means everything to Caleb and his little family. Those paychecks will make it possible for them to give up their tent and sleep indoors, where it's dry and warm. It will give them access to running water, so his wife can groom regularly. Then she can apply to pass the boards in Ohio and resume her career as a licensed hairstylist. Their goal is to begin 2018 in a furnished apartment.

"I have been talking to other people in our situation," she told me last night. "There are so many obstacles to a fresh start!" She was referring to how Caleb had gotten the window washing job, completed his internship, arranged for his union dues, and then at the last moment, during the routine background check, his minor conviction came back to haunt him. His prospective boss, who really believes in this young man, will still give Caleb the job ... as long as the conviction is expunged from his record.


"If it wasn't for your help, we might have given up."

Hearing that meant the world to me.

Sunday Stealing

SUNDAY STEALING: FIRST THINGS FIRST

{1} First thing you would do/buy if you won the lottery:
This makes me kinda sad, since I had long wanted to replace the fence at my mother's house with my lottery winnings. But she's gone and the house isn't hers anymore. SO I'll double my retirement savings and if there's any left over, I'll (finally!) finish my bathroom. If there's still any left over, I'll take my nephew to Washington DC. He so wants to go, and it would be the perfect high school graduation gift for him.

{2} First person you call when you get amazing news:
Depends on the news. My life is kinda compartmentalized.
 

Reynaldo can be very understanding

{3} First thing you do when you've had a bad day:
Reach for Reynaldo.
 
{4} First movie you went to without your parents:
A re-release of Hayley Mills' Parent Trap.
 
{5} First sport you played (Little League-style or in school):
Other than mandatory PE class, it would be volleyball. (I suck at sports.)
 
{6} First major injury:
When I was a preschooler, I fell down the stairs and broke my clavicle.

{7} First product I use in the shower: 
Aveeno Ultra Calming Facial Cleanser
 
{8} First apartment or house on your own (away from you parents!):
A studio with lovely hardwood floors and a spiral staircase. I was very happy there for a long time. But I'm glad I no longer rent. Amazingly, that little apartment costs more in rent than my current mortgage payment on a 2BR condo.
 
{9} First Roommate(s):  
I've never had a roommate. Never shared a room with my sister. Never went away to college so I wasn't in a dorm. While I've "shacked up" (as my parents' generation liked to say) with a man or two, I never gave up my own apartment.
 
{10} First Time Living Away from Home: 
The apartment mentioned in #8. 
 

I loved you, Bobby.

{11} First magazine subscription:
In junior high, I paid for a subscription to FAVE with my allowance.
 
{12} First real piece of jewelry you owned:
I have no precious stones of my own. When my mom died, my sisters decided I should have her engagement/wedding rings. I never wear them. I suppose if times get tough, I can sell them. (My parents did not have a happy marriage and it's hard for me to get sentimental about these rings.)

{13} First time staying home alone:
My parents and sisters went out to dinner but I begged to stay home and they let me. I looooooved it.
 
{14} First thing I reach for in the fridge:
Coke.
 
{15} First car accident or traffic violation:
I don't drive.

Bonus:  Toilet paper, over or under? 
Over. I feel very strongly about this. 

 

Or I could just sleep

This was one of those rainy days when nothing went right. I overslept ... the sky was gray and the drizzle was continuous ...  my optometrist stood me up (the office was locked tight and no one was answering the phone) ... I'm worried about my friend in California, and about Henry, who has fresh new money troubles on top of his ongoing ones ... The book I'm reading has become unremittingly sad ... I'm discouraged about my own inertia. I got a freelance assignment from a friend-of-a-friend and I just haven't done anything on it. I literally can't afford to be so lackadaisical about this side job.

So what did I do? I napped.

I woke up and ate dinner. Then I went back to bed.

Am I worn down by worry? Will all this sleep leave me feeling rejuvenated?

Or am I sliding into depression?

Stay tuned ...