Lateral Movement

Have long talk with the Contessa about Agents. The gist is, Should I Get One. Extravagant fantasies about acting career laid low by by reality when Libby comes into office with extremely red face. Enter into very trying conversation with Libby about mixed up Office Depot order. Am accused of signing for sixth floor delivery and taking supplies for own use. Have no recollection of doing so and say so with vehemence. Defense is undermined by discovery on desk of Pen which Libby recognizes as Just Like the specially ordered pens which she was expecting in the delivery. Recall receiving pens and feeling as though universe had sent a special treat . Universe evidentally playing a trick. Find half-used box of pens and give to Libby. Apologize. The Contessa makes a face at Libby's retreat. Resume conversation about Agents, but with less vigor.

The Nadir

Receive purchases from ebay: Depression era mixing bowl and orange bedside lamp. Mixing Bowl a rather grand term for what turns out to be a very nice Cereal bowl. Bedside lamp works and lends cheerful aspect to bedroom. Am inordinately pleased with purchases and go to bed feeling that will sleep extermely well. Wake up at two thirty and enter into Sysiphian cycle of Adjusting the Air. Begins with anxiety that the air conditioner is pouring unadulterated Freon into room, which causes me to open the windows and turn up the fan, followed by feeling the wet, thick air resting on chest and inside Nose, is very unhealthy if not deadly. Close windows, turn on air conditioner, etc. etc. Sysiphian exercise made worse up by panicky thoughts about Global Warming. Finally fall asleep and dream that have been given new apartment inside depression era Mixing Bowl, which am not upset about until learn that have three roomates, one of whom is Messy and another who has a Dog's head. When get to work, the contessa asks, What Happened to you? Say, Didn't sleep. The contessa nods. I know what you mean. I made Justin sleep on the far side of the bed so that our skin wouldn't have to touch. The contessa reveals that sleep overs with Justin have become very frequent, 5-6 times a week. Why the one day apart? The Contessa says, Well, I don't want to Give it Away. Don't see the logic in this. Superior thoughts ferment into bitter and jealous thoughts about people having sleepovers and begin to feel even worse than before. Am alarmed to find lip wobbling. The Contessa brings out emergency Dark Chocolate from desk, which we eat in silence. The Contessa says, So I guess I'll cover for you next week. Say, For what? She says, for the Movie? Ask, alarmed, The movie is next week? Yes, didn't you read the contract. Pull out contract. Was so involved with how much I would get paid, that forgot to read the part about when movie would take place. What will I tell the bosses? I ask. They won't be in anyway, the Contessa says firmly. If they come in I'll say you sent to the dentist. For three days? (Mind provides terrifying image of a three day Dentist's visit.) No, they're bound to only be in for an hour or so at the most, so they won't be any the wiser. Pull contract out of desk and confirm dates. Indeed. Services will be required wednesday through friday. Sign contract and call for Messenger service. Wonder if will get own trailer.

Copy Machine

Copy machine makes a terrible noise and jams every possible place. Curse and kick the machine, which, as expected, does nothing for function (of copier) or mood (me). Romeo comes to fix the copy machine. He quizzes the Contessa about the last time he came. How come that your dress had a cape on it. The Contessa blushes furiously, explains, It is a bridesmaid's dress. Romeo sets down his satchel of copy machine tools. How come you were wearing it at the office. The Contessa shoots me a murderous look. Fritz wanted to see what it looked like. Romeo asks, Why? Yes, Why Fritz? Asks the Contessa. Want to say, because I knew it would make me laugh. Instead, say, I wanted to make sure it Fit you. Somehow, Romeo buys this explanation and trots back to the copy room. The contessa sighs. It is so hot. Say, It isn't hot in here. No, but if I go outside it will be hot. Already have very bad freak out about global warming early this morning, which do not wish to repeat, so do not indulge the Contessa's complaints. Romeo comes out from copy machine. He holds up a bottle cap. How did this get into the copy machine? Seems a bit put out. Feel instantly guilty even though know for a fact that bottle cap not my fault. Hear self say Oh no! in tones much stronger than actually feel about the topic. Romeo lights up at my enthusiasm. Am compelled to follow him to the copy room so he can show me exactly where in the machine he found the bottle cap. We agree at length that it is very unnatural to find a bottle cap in a copy machine. Says, Some people don't know how to take care of things. Feel he knows about the Kicking. To make self feel less guilty, stay in copy room and agree some more about bottle cap. Feel am never going to leave copy room. The contessa comes to get me, says that I have a phone call. Say Hello? to dead line. Contessa whispers, I just wanted to save you.

SAG Daily Performer Rate

Receive contract for film. Am to be payed $504 per day, which is scale for a low budget film. Will be required for three days. Had always thought that Scale extremely bad and am pleaseantly surprised to find otherwise. In head, quickly pay off credit card bill, purchase dresser (pending the winning of an Ebay auction), buy new pair of shoes, and clothes (other pair of shoes, suit, have shirt made, find new sunglasses, fun socks, plus outfit for rehearsal dinner, which haven't thought about at all) required for Sigrid's wedding. When tally up purchases, realize that have spent $3,452 in a matter of seconds. Come to realization that must bring fantasy life to an end, admit to Hilary that have neither Agent nor Sag Card. Hilary answers phone with her charactaristic and demoralizing, Go Ahead. Tense conversation. What do you mean you aren't SAG? Am put on hold. When Hilary gets back on the phone, she becomes businesslike and determined not to acknowledge any awkwardness. Admire this ability as am very, very aware of awkwardness and find self talking in a high pitched voice, laughing at things that aren't funny, like when Hilary says (to her asistant presumably) Did I ask for a Snapple iced tea? No. I"m sorry, she says. Well, you know, you'll have to pay the initiation fee. More nervous laughter (mine). Squeak out, That's fine! How much is the initiation fee? Am told in brusque (if businesslike) tone, I don't know, you'll have to call SAG. Call SAG. Initiation fee is $1,356 plus the job fee of $100 plus %1.85 of the day rate. Hunt for calculator in desk. Discover very old Russian chocolate from Brighton Beach, a comb, and a glove, but no calculator. Look under desk. Accuse the Contessa of "borrowing" calculator. Thankfully, she is very involved in looking at the internet and doesn't get huffy. Tells me in languid tone to use the calculator on the computer. Use calculator on computer. Am shocked to discover that after paying SAG, will end up with $28 dollars. The Contessa pulls herself away from screen, looking dazed. When her eyes focus, she sees that I am feeling upset. Asks why. I explain. She says, at least you don't have to pay anything. She sees that this doesn't make me feel any better. Maybe this wil Lead to more Work, she says. Both of us know this is highly unlikely We change to topic to food. Both of us feel that if we don't get us some sushi this instant, we will die. Put note on door and go to very nice sushi place down street. Am cheered by the miso soup and the extremely fresh dead fish. Bill more than $28 but do not let this get me down.

Good News

Receive shocking news. Hilary (the casting director) calls and says that have Landed part of barista. She will messenger over the contract to my agent. Say, just sent it to me, I'm going to see him later anyway. (Probably more shocking is that say the right thing immediatly instead of thinking the right thing to say in the middle of the night.) Keep expectations for payment low. Also go online and plan trip to Brazil.

My Lovely Assistant

Prepare expense reports from retreat. Worry about what may have to wear. When we were young, Sigrid liked to be the Magician and I had to be the assistant. Forced to wear Mother's old purple robe and then get into cardboard box so that Sigrid could Saw me in half. So worried, that finish expense reports in record time.

Sigrid

Receive upsetting phone call from Sigrid today. She wants me to be part of her wedding party. Says, I promise I won't make you wear a dress! Sigrid a free spirit and not tied down to convention. Doesn't want tuxes or bridesmaids dresses or even suits. Wants everyone to be Creative. Know sister well enough to realize this means that she has a very clear idea of what everyone ought to wear, but she won't tell anybody until the last minute when she has a freak out. Attempt to draw her out on subject, ask, What does Creative mean? She says, You don't have to be sarcastic. Say, I'm not being sarcastic. Back and forth conversation in the same vein. Hang up. The Contessa says, What was that all about? Tell her. The Contessa quiet, grins to herself. Says, I hope you have to wear a cape too. A cape is creative. Say, Don't you dare give her any Ideas. Ask, So is Justin still going to the wedding with you? (Remember that haven't officially heard about the screen test though news bound to be bad. Feelings become very badly hurt. Feel Hatred toward Justin and toward Self. Why can't things ever Turn Out?) He's still going with me to the wedding. (Get ahold of self. Think in stern way, You don't Want to be in a Movie) Where is the wedding? It is in Montauk on the beach. That'll be nice. Where is Sigrid's? It is on Widby Island in Washigton. How nice. Very nice, especially in August. Conversation falls into a rut of platitudes. The Contessa pulls us out, What do you think she will make you wear?

Heat

Air-conditioner not working well at home last night. Lie on floor, apply cold wash cloths to face and belly and watch Summerland. Worst night ever.

Retreat, Part III

The New Man asesses food situation and convinces Paul to drive him to the farm stand, the cheese shop, and the butcher. Comes back with sandwiches for lunch, and for dinner, steaks, corn, beets, and baby lettuces. We grill the steaks and drink gallons of wine. Attempt to eat outdoors. Mosquitos very plentiful. Say, Isn't it nice to eat out doors? Much slapping of necks and flinching away from the bugs. Admit defeat. Move indoors to large table in the kitchen. The vice-boss has half a beet and a cigarette. The rest of us eat like farm hands. The New Man, says, We never got to do any team building exercises. How about Charades. I kick the Contessa under the table. The Contessa gets the hint. She yawns very dramatically and says she is as Tired as a Dog. Must have been all that Tennis. The New Man, Paul, and the Contessa laugh. Seems have been left out of an inside joke, but grateful to the Contessa for getting us out of Charades. Vice-boss shows us to the bunk room. Get ready for bed. Discover that aave an angry looking Rash on face. Wash vigorously. Contessa already in bottom bunk bed. Say to her in sarcastic voice, Thank you for telling me my face looked like this. Says, looks like what? Sits up in bed. Oh, I thought you just had a Burn. What happened? Don't wish to admit to trying out the vice-boss's lotions, so change the subject. What was the big joke about tennis? The Contessa plumps up her pillow. Oh, We didn't play tennis, we got High. Am shocked. Am glad that didn't have to play tennis or get high, but both seem preferable to my afternoon with the Vice-boss, who after I complained about the heat, had me come inside with her and help her organize her Home Office. Organizing meant filing extremely old financial statements, changing the toner in the printer, and, when the schnoodle Marked his territory (the desk), had to clean that up. Organizing not so bad, but Vice-boss compelled to put on fashion show while I organized. Modeled swim suits and new dresses. Wanted to know What I thought. Thought (in all cases) that she was a Ewe dressed in Lamb's clothing, but, naturally did not share this. All in all, would have preferred high paranoia.

Contessa already snoring, book open across her ches. Turn off light. Settle into top bunk. Have nice full stomach and fall asleep immediately.

Retreat Part 2

The New Man, ignoring all awkwardness, shakes hands with Vice-Boss's husband, Paul, and puts his hand up for the vice-boss to high-five, which she, shockingly, knows how to do. Paul puts on shirt. The contessa and I dump our bags in living room and walk out back. Paul and the New Man already talking about tennis. Say, preemtively, I think I'll just sit by the pool. Vice-boss says she will sit by the pool too. The Contessa, the New Man and Paul go off to tennis court. Realize have absolutely nothing to say to the vice-boss. Feel extremely uncomfortable. She doesn't say anything either, but am almost certain that it doesn't bother her. Say, I think I'll go put on my bathing suit. Vice-boss turns the page of her paperback. Says, Will you bring me some iced tea when you come back. Says, Thanks, without looking up from book. Bathroom counter bristling with lotions. Majority of lotions (or as the French, and many of the bottles say, soins, pour le mains, corps, visage) promise (collectively) to Reverse damage caused by sun, smoke, and Aging. A magnifying mirror with a light in prominent position on counter. Have looked into magnifying mirrors before and don't wish to repeat experience. Nevertheless, find self clicking on light and examining face. Visage very upsetting, consisting of pits and incipient pimples connected by rough patches of skin. When younger, felt very strongly that would welcome lines on face as a sign of Wisdom. Thought that Ruggedness was attractive. Have since revised opinion. Apply mixture of most likely soins to visage, focusing on crows feet and middle of forehead. Put on bathing suit. Stop by kitchen to get iced tea. If pour myself a glass too, won't feel like a servant. Open refrigerator. Discover iced tea in glass jug. Only other contents of refrigerator: small jar of cornichons, a tube of anchovy paste, and a plastic bag of wilted parsley. Panic about lunch. Find stale saltines in cupboard. Squeeze anchovy past and cornichons on four saltines. Cram into mouth before anybody comes in. Chew quickly. Take glasses of ice tea out to pool. Vice-boss asleep in deck check. Resist impulse to spill tea oh her. Settle self down on chair with own book. Become very hot in the sun but am unable to move deck chair to shade or to jump in pool. Rue snack.

Retreat Part I

Wake up in a very good mood. Remember that today is day of the retreat. Feel sick. Take shower. In shower, recall that ebay auctions over. Rush to computer to check to see what have won. Lose the rug, but win the Depression-era bowl and bedside lamp. Pleased. Pack bag. Load in dried apricots, cashews, Cliff bars, and two oranges purchased for trip. Take out cashews and apricots, eat half of each bag while chugging coffee. Run out door. Stop by deli to purchase flowers as hostess gift. (Mean to keep edibles for self and Contessa.) Buy Carnations, because cheapest. Intend to meet the contessa at the Atlantic Avenue train station. When get to Atlantic Avenue station, alarmed to see many many national guardsmen in camoflauge holding M-16s. Enter elaborate fantasy about boarding Last train out of New York. Become convinced that the Contessa will be left behind. We will have to say goodbye (forever) through the open windows of the train. Except that windows don't open on LIRR trains. Dramatic farwell unnecessary because Contessa comes walking down platform, lugging enormous bag, purse, tennis racquet and garment bag. What did you pack? I didn't know what to pack so I brought some things to choose from. Says she needs four pairs of shoes, two skirts, a dress, two pairs of shorts and a couple of bathing suits to choose from. Plus products. Become suspicious. The Contessa not overly careful with dress or toilet for work in office. Last year she only brought a purse and small backpack and didn't brush her hair once. Further questioning reveals that she plans on leaving from the vice-boss's house to go to Justin's in Shelter Island. Become alarmed. Say, You'd better not ditch me. I can't be alone with Them. The Contessa swears on her mother's grave. We settle ourselves into our seats. Have made insincere plan to meet up with the New Man on the platform of the Jamaica station. Have every confidence that the platform will be mobbed and that we sill miss each other. At Jamaica, New Man finds us with no trouble and says so in excited voice. Now we can talk all the way out there. Train to East End comes almost immediately. Place bag and flowers on rack above us. The Contessa has a tense words with man in tweed coat about how much of the storage rack each deserves. Tennis racquets get pushed back and forth. Detente reached somehow. The Contessa sits down. Train rolling down tracks. Water starts dripping from rack above. Man in tweed coat very upset. Accuses the Contessa of having Something in her bag that is leaking. Feel very glad that the leak is not my fault. Watch exchange with amusement. Experience creeping realization that own Carnations dripping. Get up and take flowers down from rack. Apologize to man. This does not make him behave. He says several vulgar and sacriligious words. Say, I'm very sorry, meaning to communicate that I'm not at all. The Contessa puts head against window and falls immediately asleep. Rest of train raide takes two or three weeks. Talk with the New Man about Weather, the School, and the city in the summer. Try to talk about Television but the new man Doesn't Watch. Forced to admit to self that conversation went so well last time because of the introduction of wine. Embark on very long conversation about Toner. Wish had a small drink or small gun. Check watch and see that it is only nine o'clock. Am appalled with self for even thinking about drink. (Being appalled doesn't stop thinking. Tell self that no chance of procuring drink anyway as have not thought to bring any and barcar nonexistent.) Finally arrive at station in Amagansett. Take taxi to house. Knock on front door. Nobody answers and we let ourselves in. See vice-boss and her husband out by pool in back yard. Husband flushed, no shirt, swimming trunks, belly protruding, speaking in very agitated tone, What do you mean you invited the office to come this weekend? When were you going to tell me? The vice-boss holding paperback in her right claw, raises it in a thretening manner, says, Why don't you listen to a word I say? Look at the Contessa. She similarly paralyzed. Watch as New Man walks to the backyard, uncomprehending, shaking hands and kissing cheeks.

Unstable Things

Last night, anxious about dresser auction. Place bids on orange ceramic bedside lamp, Depression-era mixing bowl, and small antique rug. (Have philosophical discussion with self about the difference between antique and old. Feel that there is something deeper going on than semantics) Am still in the lead for the auction. Read the Chronicle online. Eye drawn to article called,
Sealife in Peril Know that not in best interest to look at article. Read article immediately. Feel absolutely demoralized. Have grim (and yet frivolous) thought that would like to have a functioning dresser for the End. Lose auction by two dollars and fifty cents. Feel very low. But have hope that will win other auctions.

ebay

Discover ebay. Spend several hours shopping for furniture. Have actual need as dresser (painted yellow and found on the Street two years ago and not best quality to begin with) has suddenly given out. Drawers now impossible to close. Socks, underwear and t-shirts climbing out of tops, bottoms, and sides of drawers. (When unable to sleep last night, open eyes and attemp breathing exercises. Focus gaze on Dresser portion of wall. Breath in and out, in and out. Begin to feel calm until Positive that see something Move. The thing stops moving but am afraid that it is just Standing Still. Forced to turn on light and examine. Not a Rat, just balled up socks. Retry breathing exercises, this time with eyes screwed shut.) Find dresser on ebay, low, with six drawers, made in the 1950s. Seems like a very resonable price. Hardly any damage. Auction ending today. Become aware that the stars are aligning for a Perfect purchase. Submit bid. Feel a rush of excitement. Ask the Contessa, Have you ever shopped on ebay? I love ebay but I'm not allowed to look at it. Why not? Because I developed a Habit. What did you buy? I don't know, clothes, antique playing cards, thimbles. For a while, I got obsessed with children's instruments. Stop her. What? You know, like little drums and flutes. Not positive what she means, but nod, yes. What did you do with the stuff? I rented a storage space, the Contessa says grimly. I ought to sell the stuff back but selling isn't nearly as fun as buying. In fact, selling is horrible. Contessa seems a little agitated. Check on auction. Am still the high bidder. The Contessa says, What am I going to do with an antique birdcage? I don't even have a bird. I hate birds. Don't want to have a habit either, but need a dresser. Will prevent self from making frivolous purchases. Check on auction. No change.

The Grotto

Vice-boss and new man not in today but have left packets to be copied. Contessa and I have spirited conversation about Rove and his troubles. We convince ourselves that the end is nigh. Emerge from conversation feeling invigorated. Contessa says she has a top secret thing to attend to. Have terrible time with copy machine, james up every few minutes. Burn self on the insides of copy machine. Earlir invigoration turns to extreme irritation. The Contessa comes back half an hour later with garment bag. Sick look on her face. Am very, very excited. Unzips bag and pulls out dress, which, is more hideous than imagined. I say, it's taupe. I know, my favorite. Holds dress up to face. Taupe not becoming color on the contessa. Say, I thought that it was supposed to be teal. oh no, teal is so 1989. And this isn't taupe, it's White Peach. We look closely at color. I think it changed color under the flouescent lights, says the contessa. Say, you'll all look nude. The Contessa says grimly, I'm afraid that's the idea. We are supposed to be nymphs. Touch cape. Not made of a Nice material. Say, Please try it on? No, You just want to laugh at me. I promise I won't laugh. The contessa looks around the office. I say, Nobody is coming. Contessa appears to waver. The New Man always comes in at the worst time, she says. But he specifically said that he would be at meetings all morning and if he came in it wouldn't be until after 3. (This more or less true, can't remember exactly when he said meetings would be done.) Do you promise you won't laugh? I promise. Contessa lets herself into the vice-boss's office to change. Am already laughing. Get ahold of self. Contessa emerges from the grotto. She dances around with the cape. Ask, now can I laugh? Romeo, the copy guy apppears in middle of frivolity. Contessa barefoot. Runs out of room, cape flying behind.

Preparing for Retreat

Flurry of activity in office in preparation for Retreat next weekend. New Man pacing around. Vice-boss in office with door closed but buzzing the Conteessa every few minutes with questions that the Contessa answers in monosyllables, red-faced. Am interested to see what sort of questions vice-boss asking. Vice-boss buzzes again, New man answers and asks, vice-boss If There is a Tennis Court. Receives favorable news and shouts great. Sits on corner of Contessa's desk. Punches Contessa on the arm, what do you say we play some tennis? See competitive gleam in Contessa's eye. She says, What kind of player are you. Flirtatious back-and-forth about skill level and experience. Am appalled by flirting and by tennis discussion. Make face slack. Pretend to write very serious email. Don't want to be invited to play tennis. Hate it and am very, very bad. Spend most of time chasing after tennis balls and wishing for end (metaphorical as well as literal). (Question: does Hate make bad, or does badness cause Hate? Could apply same question to many, many other aspects of life, but won't as sure to uncover upsetting results.) New Man offers to buy the Contessa and me coffee. Departs. The Contessa glowing. I ask, What did the vice-boss want? Contessa scowls. She wanted to know if you eat meat. Me? What did you say? I said Yes. What else did she ask? She called back to see if the New Man eats meat. I said yes to that too. Did she call back to see if you ate meat too? No, she called back to see if I was allergic to milk. Ask, Why? Contessa shrugs. Why does she do anything? Am not yet willing to give up on topic of food. What do you think we'll eat when we're there? I don't know, the Contessa says darkly, She's probably planning on boiling a calf in its mother's milk.

FedEx

Vice-boss arrives at office loaded down with bags. I'm SO glad to see you, she says. Smile fake smile. So does she. She starts unpacking bags. One holds condiments, horseradish mustard, currant jelly, marmelade (marmelade!), anchovy paste, capers, Old Bay spice. The other bag holds three two-piece bathing suits. Vice-boss asks, could you please fedex these to Amagansett for Saturday delivery? Am afraid that have appalled look on face because vice-boss, says, The food (food?) is for our retreat next week. Say, making a joke, what about the bathing suits? We each get a new bathing suit? No, of course not, she snaps. So you'll take care of this right away? Much later wish had bowed head and said, as you wish, m'lady.

On Time

Leave apartment in high spirits. Very productive time spent writing. Also, first time ever beating the computer at Chess. Wear new kelly green polo shirt and pants (pants appear to have grown another inch in the leg and lost same in waist. Ignore.) Walking to subway, have uneasy feeling that sense of accomplishment comes from chess rather than writing. Afraid that only wrote a half page description of Nescafe (later confirmed.) Take subway. Have brief panic about being on subway, but arrive at station in one piece. See Libby in elevator. Smile and hope conversation not necessary. Unfortunatly, Libby of different opinion. Says, Wow, look at that shirt. You're bright and ...Late! I couldn't say Bright and Early because you're not! Murderous urges.

Global Warming

Last night meet Dave for drinks. Dave runs fingers through hair appraisingly. Apparently admiring his handiwork. Go into restaurant. Order wine and food. Discover Dave shares interest in Global Warming. Embark on long discussion detailing probabal outcomes: flooding of major cities, mass extinction of plants and animals, concentration camps, War, cannibalism. Pay bill and part in very cheerful mood.

Average Joe

The contessa went to Morning Sun Salute yoga class, wrote two poems after that, and even brought her lunch. Is cleaning her desk and making exclamations of delight. Takes many trips to the recycling bin. Own desk very tidy from yesterday's exertions and wish to have conversation, not do work. As opening gambit, recall what the Average Joe said to the woman (don't know the names of people, just flipping through the channels, not up on the competition, nor care to be): Man says in very sinceren tone, I think you are the same caliber as a Jessica Simpson. The woman on the show very touched by this endearment. Say to the the Contessa, You are the same caliber as a jessica simpson. The Contessa Very upset (think this is the proper reaction). Stops her filing, You think I'm trampy? Tears in eyes. Feel bad about this. Explain the circumstances. She sits down. Oh, because I've been feeling a little trampy. Ask what she means. Explains that Justin the Producer very appealing, perhaps even Hot, and Smart and Sweet, but has some specific sexual tastes. Say, I know about the Spanking. Well, she says. That's only the beginning. Am fascinated and repelled. Wait for Contessa to continue. She changes the subject. Am relieved, sort of. He's going to be my date to the wedding. Really? What is happening to the dress? I'm going to pick it up tomorrow, she says, grimly, thanks for reminding me. Oh, I forgot to tell you, Justin said he saw your tape and that he liked it. He thought you had a tough look. (Must have been the Eye.) Imagination books me a first class flight to L.A. Am met by car service and whisked to set where bag of cash awaits.

Retreat

Discover that weeks of gossiping, going to screen tests, taking swimming breaks and lunches with the New Man have resulted in a bulging Pending file. Open file with distaste. Lots of bills to be paid. Have often thought that since not own money being used, task ought to be fun. Close Pending file. The Contessa in low spirits. Says she is tired. Further investigation reveals that tired means Hung Over. She spent weekend with Justin the Producer but isn't sure if she likes him or not. Details not forthcoming and feel that she is a bit snappish, so go back to Pending file. Gather together lunch recipts for the vice-boss and the New Man and put in to separate piles. Make copies of receipts and then type totals into form. Hear self sighing. Hear the Contessa answer the phone. Says hello in an extremely lethargic way. Throws a paperclip at me. I look over. She mouths a long sentence. Not sure what she is saying. She repeats, which doesn't clear things up. She hangs up the phone. Guess where we get to go a week from Friday? Ask, Where? Picture that mind provides--the Roller Coaster in Coney Island--both unpleasant and not very likely. The Contessa looks grim, well, does the word marmelade ring a bell. Say, oh Jesus and smack forehead with hand. Feel very anxious while finishing up the bills. Anxiety makes the work go by quickly. The contessa puts her head down on her desk. I say, well, this time we need to bring plenty of food to the vice-boss's house. In head, make list, bananas, granola bars, dried apricots, bottled water, peanuts, cashews. Feel hungry. The Contessa says, I can't even think about food right now. Say, At least the New Man won't make us play games. Don't be so sure, the Contessa says in sepulchral tone. Think that she is to Pessimistic and say so.

Sorrow

After screen test go home and try to drown Sorrow with a bottle of wine. Drink wine. Sorrow a very strong swimmer. Maudlin scene involving me on couch with tissues, watching show on Oprah called Romantic Room Makeovers. All makovers extremely expensive (feel disgust and deep envy). The designer is attractive man Nate, who lost boyfriend in Tsunami. Nate seems cheerful but feel very sorry for him anyway. Eyes not dry.