Hello, Failure

Of all the enemies of literature, success is the most insidious

Thursday, January 01, 2004

Failure of the Day: The Obvious

So New Years Eve is always weird because I’m female, so I have a kind of biological imperative to go out even though I know without a doubt that I will start to get really sleepy around 10 PM. But still, I know that it is my god given right as a married woman to always have a date on New Years Eve, which entails having plans on New Years Eve. Whether I want them or not.

But I was realistic this year, given that both of us are just on this side of a particularly brutal cold and still in need of a nice bit of rest. Plus I woke up at 5 AM wide goddamn awake yesterday morning in the grip of a paralyzing fear that I had not yet purchased life insurance for god sake, that’s what my anxiety attacks have come to. It’s pathetic. I can’t even muster a decent night hell anymore.

Anyway, that pretty much did in any thought I had of being outside or wearing shoes when the AM rolled around again. I thought, as I spent the afternoon adjusting the formatting of paragraph marks in a book so dull that after 13 chapters I still have no idea what it is actually about, I thought: Dinner would be nice.

And so when Chris came home from his short day and suggested the fancy Lika bistro around the corner, I clapped my hands and jumped up and down a little bit. Then I put my lipstick in my new lime green handbag and put on the very fancy pumps I bought as a present for myself when I renewed my work contract. Then I ate a bunch of lamb. A bunch of very good lamb. On a bed of risotto, baby.

We spent a leisurely 2 hours eating a lovely dinner and then came home, where I drank 2 cans of Cherry 7-Up from a champagne flute and watched the New Years episode of My So-Called Life. I managed to remain conscious until midnight, just long enough to watch the goofystupid local news anchors muff the 10 second countdown, and then I fell promptly to sleep. Happy new year.


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