HIM: Good morning did I wake you?
ME: No… I had a terrible night’s sleep… I felt like the princess in Princess And The Pea.
HIM: That’s too bad. Are you worried about this surgery?
ME: No this surgery is minor… heart related… not worried about it… this is not a die on the table surgery. They probably only lose 5 or 6 patients a year in this procedure. I have much more serious problems.
HIM: What? What’s going on?
ME: I told you I didn’t sleep. We could pack for a world trip with the bags under my eyes. I look like Hilary Clinton forgot to take her water pills and stayed in the tanning bed too long—it’s GHASTLY!!!
HIM: Oh is that all?
ME: Is that ALL? Which part of I look like Hilary Clinton didn’t you hear? They will come and film on Thursday and Friday… and my hair looks like a runaway slave…. I can’t find my hairstylist. She’s not returning my calls.
HIM: That doesn’t sound like Flash. How many times have you called her?
ME: Once. The newspaper wants to come TODAY, tomorrow and friday.
HIM: Calm down… you’ll be fine.
ME: You want me on the front page of the paper looking bad… cause YOU have NO morals.
HIM: I do not want that.
ME: Oh yeah, well why didn’t you learn how to cut black hair, and over here cutting my hair.
ME: Are you there?
HIM: Yeah, I’m just thinking of whether I should bring the nurses, candy, flowers, or vodka… or all of them.