Friday got away from me in a whirlwind of deadlines and last minute details. There were CEOs to pacify, out of town guests to welcome and rock ‘n roll shows to attend. And when, at ten o’clock that night I was heading home to bed with a fever, I was almost grateful for the forced rest that would come with catching the latest strain of the Office Plague.
Almost.
When I sent Jessica and Goldner off to Krissa’s holiday party and stayed behind to cough up what was left of my lungs, I had a wee pity party of my own. As I was hiding under piles of down comforter, my cell phone rang.
“Baby, what’s wroooooong?”
It was the People Who Sleep With Men calling. I croaked my hoarse sorries first to Biscuit, then Kate and then Krissa who told me to stop talking, I was making her sad. I hung up the phone and went back to my book, strangely comforted knowing that I was missed -- and that if I died in snotty heap on my bedroom floor, someone would eventually come looking for me. Man, I love my friends.
On that subject....
We had a moment this week (the PWSWM, I mean), that left not a single one of us untouched. It never fails to amaze me, and to impress upon me the crucial role of people like this in my life, when time after time a need arises and they rally -- motivated by nothing more than love for their friends -- to fix what is broken, calm what is rattled and fill in where something is missing. I am awed by their examples, buoyed by their loyalty and convinced that it’s only a matter of fashion that keeps these superheroes from running around in capes. That, and the short one would probably trip on hers.
To the People Who Sleep with Men: You rock my face off.
Feel better Fish! Lots of chicken noodle soup and hot tea (hot toddies aren't a bad idea, either). You are blessed to have such true friends--Santa is indeed good to you!
Posted by: Rachel at December 19, 2004 08:39 PMMy geek self can only imagine one of two things: (a) a giant beacon of some sort shining over Gotham City (NYC baby) or (b) You with a communicator ring, pressing a button that causes the whole PWSWM tribe to run to the planning room, plotting out your salvation.
Friends truly do rock. Hope you feel better in time for egg nog spiked with bourbon.
Posted by: Joe J. at December 19, 2004 09:09 PMIt's like I'm always saying. If more people would sleep with men, this world would be a better place.
Posted by: brando at December 19, 2004 09:53 PMThe plague seems to be making the round this Christmas season. Rest up, it's only a short hop, skip, and a jump to New Year's.
Posted by: Matt Caldecutt at December 19, 2004 11:13 PMUnrelated question for you, Fish. I was procrastinating on my paper by reading your archives and I noticed that your style changed quite significantly between the first couple entries (where it was, dare I say, very Bridget Jones) and your current writing. Was that an intentional shift or a natural evolution? Could you mark the point where the style changed? Also, to what extent is the elliptical nature of your writing intentional (for style or dramatic effect) as opposed to protecting the privacy of other parties (see, e.g., that Jeffrey Rosen article about blogs and privacy in the NY Times today)? Just wonderin'...
Posted by: supergirl at December 20, 2004 12:44 AMhope you feel better.
I WOULD SO NOT TRIP I WOULD HAVE A STYLISH SHORT CAPE HMPH.
Posted by: k (rissa) at December 20, 2004 10:27 AMFriends do indeed rock as I was reminded this weekend when my posse had their annual Christmas get together.
And as a shortie myself I'm with Krissa --we can wear capes, they are just custom-made incredibly stylish short ones!