Yesterday morning, I was sitting here minding my own business -- actually I wasn't. One of my freelance jobs is to read legal documents, so I was minding everyone else's business -- when the phone rang. It was a fancy ad agency in Winston-Salem, wondering if I'd like to come in for an interview.
All I know is I had nothing to wear to this interview. I was a freelancer for years, and at my last job, you could wear whatever you wanted. I pictured myself going into the interview in my one pair of (pink) sweatpants and my Saginaw Valley Tshirt.
In the closet, hanging mournfully, were an old pair of black pants that were from a suit I wore to an interview in 2002, a place where they hired me and I worked for a day and three hours because it was Hades in a high rise. The pants would. not. button. I think they shrunk at the dry cleaner's. That's my theory.
So I had decided to wear the really brown, wintery outfit I had worn to a fancy interview I had had back in January, even though it is 90 degrees here. I would look like I was a meth addict throughout the interview, or maybe they would think I was just really excited about the job and perspiring with drive.
Then yesterday, on my way to read to Miss Lilly, I popped in to this ridiculous clothing store in town. Fred Segal it is not. And do you know I found the cutest suit? Either I am forgetting what fashion is, or I got a deal. It is a gray/blue color, which looks good with my eyes, and the jacket ties rather than buttons. It was $84. Folks, I bought it.
Today I got up at like 2 a.m. to drive Marvin to work, so I could have our one car. Seriously, you guys, I had no idea how early that man had to get to work. It was pitch black outside. I felt more like I was taking him to the ER than work. I actually saw an older woman, in curlers, out power walking. In the total darkness. You have to hand it to her.
Other than my new $84 suit, I look insane. I have not had a manicure, facial or a wax of anything in 10 months. I look like the caveman on the Geico commercial.
The other thing is, thank God I have McDonald's gift certificates left over from my pal Rosie Papaya. Because if you think I want to also worry about what to pack in the car that is nonperishable, you are not thinking right.
Okay, here I go.