to go: 268.93 [YTD:
the summer I
new line of skincare products that I really love. They do great things
for my schizophrenic middle-aged complexion. (Zits AND wrinkles: is
there any more absurd a combination? I ask you?)
smell nice, and they feel good on my skin. Plus they don't cost me an
arm and a leg, which is especially important to me right now, since
I am required by law to continue mailing body parts to my ex-husband
every month until the year 2004. Every limb counts, basically.
have been only two
problems so far.
It's difficult to find my fabulous new skincare products in local
stores. Trust me: I've looked. (And the stores that do
carry the full product line are mostly the big fancy-pants department
stores in downtown San Francisco, where you are required to run the
gauntlet of Perfume Pimps and Makeover Madames before you ever reach
the skincare section. My frail and crabby sinuses can't take the
olfactory abuse.) So I've had to resort to ordering my semi-regular fix
of retinol and glycolic acid online, every few weeks ... which in and
of itself isn't a problem, since we all know that I'm a
hopeless online-shopping-junkie who probably would have purchased her CHILDREN
on the Internet, had that been an option in the early 80's (especially
if it got me out of sex) ... but isn't
nearly as cheap or convenient a solution as stopping at Walgreen's
after work, whenever I sense impending facial collapse and I'm running
a little low on miracle wrinkle-eradicating exfoliant lotion.
Every time I order something from the website, they send me another
goddamn tube of FootSauce.
what David calls
"FootSauce." Technically, it's Foot Exfoliation Creme with Antioxidants
and Vitamin E Oil. The website has been pushing the stuff like crazy
all year: they automatically toss a complimentary fullsize tube in with
the rest of your order, with any purchase from their Groovy New
Skincare Products Line. So far I've got five unopened tubes of
FootSauce in my collection: I expect a sixth to land on my doorstep any
day now. It wouldn't be so bad if they gave us a choice occasionally --
Yes please! More
FootSauce! ... or,
What do I look like -- a CENTIPEDE?!?
Or else perhaps they could offer a complimentary tube of one of their
very fine skincare products once in a while, like the Peach Kernel
& Walnut Exfoliating Mask, or the Feta Cheese &
Sun-Dried Tomato Cellulite Body Scrub.
they don't. They
sending me more FootSauce.
funny thing is that
doesn't seem to mind the proliferation of FootSauce tubes, cluttering
the headboard above our bed. Sometimes he gets a little squirmy when he
feels he's being overrun by "girl stuff" -- more than two different
brands of shampoo in the shower stall, for instance -- but oddly enough
the FootSauce doesn't seem to bother him at all. Two or three nights a
week, usually as we're laying in bed watching TV, he squirts a couple
of big dollops of Sauce onto my tired, achey, middle-aged feet and
gives me the foot massage to end all foot massages.
can we do?"
he shrugs. "We've got to use it up."
problem here is that
the rate we're going, it'll take us a year just to get through that
first tube. And in the meantime, new tubes will continue rolling in.
I figure that unless I do something to stem the tide of FootSauce,
David is going to have to give me 43,897,621 foot massages -- or one
foot massage every 20.4 minutes, every night between now and 2004 --
just to keep us from drowning in the stuff.
second thought: maybe
should just shut up right now.
* * * * * *
been cruising right
this entire month ... filled with energy, getting lots of Very
Important Stuff accomplished, enjoying another gorgeous Alameda autumn.
And then all of a sudden, just this past week, I fell down.
-- more accurately --
I fell back.
don't remember a time
ever hitting me as hard as this one has. Ordinarily I love the switch
from Daylight Savings Time back to Standard Time: for the first few
days it actually feels like we're getting more sleep than usual. I
know that it's just an illusion -- a trick of the clock and nature --
but it's always a nice temporary mood elevator, anyway. (As opposed to
the springtime switch from Standard Time to Daylight Savings Time,
which traditionally leaves me feeling depressed and discombobulated and
sleep-deprived for days afterward.) This year, for whatever reason, my
internal clock has been seriously confused all week long,
ever since we set our clocks back on Saturday night. I'm not sad, or
even S.A.D, but I do feel unnaturally sluggish and
cranky and carbohydrate-deprived and utterly incapable of dealing
rationally with life's little stressors. (Like "Still Standing." Or
like Armand spending the entire fudking day in the office yesterday.)
All I've wanted to do this week is call in sick and curl up on the sofa
and eat raw bread dough straight out of the package, all day long.
a crummy way to end
favorite month ... but at least I've got six months to get used to this
time change before they hit me with the next one.
* * * * * *
good news is that my
Hallowe'en costume was absurdly easy to construct this year.
Ass," I've been telling people all day. "See the trick-or-treat bags
under my eyes?" This never fails to elicit a Big Laugh from the
under-forties in the office -- Hahahaha,
Secra! You're so
funny! -- and a Knowing Look
from the over-forties -- I
hear you, Sister.
sound asleep at their desks, all day, and weren't available for
am indifferent to
It was marginally fun when I was still drinking: put an eleven-pack of
Rainier Beer into Young Dysfunctional Secra, unbutton the top four
buttons of her Ellie Mae Clampett costume and watch her instantly
become the life of the party. And I loved doing Hallowe'en-related
stuff with The Tots when they were young: carving jack-o-lanterns,
dressing up the house with construction paper and dime-store
decorations, convincing them that Cherry Mountain Bars were
of ground-up leftover kittens. (So they should probably just give all
of the Cherry Mountain Bars to MOM, right here and now, and allow her
to dispose of them properly.) But now that I'm sober -- and now that
The Tots are 99.9% grown-up and no longer as amusingly gullible as they
used to be -- Hallowe'en has become yet another one of those
non-holidays that I mostly ignore, once a year. I plan to go home
tonight and spend my Hallowe'en sitting around in my Happy Pants,
watching Jan or Shii Ann get kicked off of "Survivor: Thailand"
eating raw bread dough right out of the package.
the meantime, I'm
wondering what we're going to do about trick-or-treaters tonight. We
usually never get more than two or three small visitors to our door on
Hallowe'en night -- last year we didn't get any at all, as I recall --
but I'm thinking we should probably have a treat ready for them, just
in case. The question is: what sort of treat? Candy is too dangerous
to leave laying around the
household. Fruit is a waste of money: it'll just end up on our
windshield, anyway. Money is out of the question ... primarily because
we don't have
any, right now.
wonder how they would
about a tube of FootSauce?