There is not enough Stolichnaya or Chardonnay or Capri Lights in the state of Florida to quell this jitter inside me that comes from having no menz and no job. As of 10:15 on Tuesday morning(forever referred to as T-Day)I am jobless. Or at least mostly jobless. I still work 10 hours a week at the not to be named Italian Restaurant. Let me just say that this does not pay the bills. Not even close. I am now going to go through the grueling process of finding another job. Lets not even mention the 3rd flat tire this month that I got this morning on my way to search for jobs. The huge pulled pork sam-ich I got from the local BBQ joint did little to offer in way of a pick me up(unless we are talking about pounds going up. It did wonders for that). Smoked pork in sloppy sauce covered in slaw can only go so far.(Yes I know.....shouldn't have spent the money on it).....(did it anyway....if I'm going down I'm going down in a blaze of wine sipped, pork fed, cheese covered glory so help me...) Channel the Scarlett O'Hara imitation now. I will however prevail. I will go home tonight and I will form a plan....or have a big glass of Chard...or both. I should be feeling the skirred part anytime now but mostly I just wanna go sit on the beach. Look up that description of Southern Bombshell. I think somewhere it includes
"always ready to face the world with a big dose of denial, will continue to spend what she does not have, always looking forward with the hope that somehow something will come through that will bail her out"
It's that ever present hopefulness that makes us look a little glassy eyed and air-headed. That an we've been drinking....chin up....take a breath...mix a little cocktail....ready to face the world now. Where did I leave that damn feather boa again?
Here's to things looking up ladies!
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