“It’s frigging miraculous,” she said to no one in particular as she spied and then finally recovered the tiny silver backing of her left faux diamond stud earring from under the refrigerator using a straightened wire hanger with a piece of well-chewed gum stuck to its end.
She stuck it back on its post before dusting off the lint that had stuck to the knees of her velour pantsuit during her search.
And with that, she returned to Judge Judy reruns with a renewed sense of hope for the world.
“If it’s not one thing, it is another!” she muttered under her breath to no one in particular, as she walked away after attempting to relate to the newly voted in President of the Women’s League, whose ensuing torrent of complaints just about set off one of her famous migraines.
Fortunately, she had felt it coming on and so had smiled the polite smile she was known for and excused herself, citing a sudden powerful need to powder her nose.
She passed by the door to the Ladies, making a beeline for the tray of drinks that was just a few feet ahead, ever-grateful for her social survival instincts: that one wouldn’t be in office long, the thought to herself, and with that, she smiled a very self-satisfied smile and took a first, very long, sip of mint julep.
“Fuck bliss!” she said to no one in particular as she stood up from the rather bedraggled towel she used as a makeshift meditation mat, turned on her 70’s rock Spotify playlist with the volume set up super loud, and poured herself a cup of the high octane coffee that had been gurgling and spitting as it brewed during her latest attempt at discovering her true dharma.
Inspired by The Daily Post Daily Word Prompt: bliss
“In theory, I have a wonderful life,” she said to no one in particular, pulling the bedcover back over her head, unable to face yet another day.
And just like that, she felt something bubble up from her heart. It took a moment, but with astonishment she realized she actually felt jolly. She felt a laugh escape her that she hadn’t heard in years as a single, tiny tear of joy fell from her left eye.
“Don’t varnish the truth, darling,” she said to no one in particular as she resolutely declined to add more lipstick color to her lips. She could plainly see the little telltale lines above her upper lip and the way the bright red color she had favored in her youth now bled off into the tiny trenches, and with that, she was done with reds. It would be pinks and faint corals from now on, until the day when even those colors would need to be retired.
“Allow me to give you just a snippet of my mind,” she said to no one in particular.
“No,” she said, calmly but with full commitment.
And with that, she felt utterly complete.
“I’m glad I am particular,” she said to no one in particular, giving herself one final look over in the mirror before going downstairs to join the others.
With a firm nod of approval at her reflection, she reached for her gloves, congratulating herself for having decided against wearing the new emerald green peacock and lace evening gown.
With a self-satisfied smile just barely gracing her lips, she set her face into its most attractive arrangement and started for the door and another successful evening.
With the tiniest of wry little smiles, she thought to herself, “I have a rather droll sense of humor, don’t I?”
Anyone who might have been looking her way would have thought to themselves, “Now that is an intriguing woman,” but sadly, no one was looking her way at just that moment.
And just like that, her face returned to its usual arrangement, a bespoke blend of earnest effort and fatigue, as she went to top off table eleven’s coffee cups.
Francine was beyond tired. The kids were being brats in the back seat and she had more important things on her mind than who was putting buggers on who’s arm.
Just one more errand to do, and then she could drive back home, get the kids started on their homework, and head back to the bedroom to have some alone time. She had a new mystery she was dying to start, and she just wanted to lay there, read, and finish the half-eaten jumbo candy cane pole hidden in the bedside table drawer.
Just as she was about to make a left into the library parking lot, some car from the next lane over pulled in front of her. She jammed on the brakes, which sent the kids flying into the back of the front seat and her heart into a flip-flop. After the shock wore off, she rolled down her car window, and honked the horn, yelling after the car, “Freak!!”
Hearing the shrillness of her own voice, she was surprised that that was what had come out of her mouth, but it was the worst thing she could think of to say in front of the kids. She looked back to see if they were OK, only to find that they were actually more than OK. They were cracking up over it all.
As she rolled the window back up, she quickly decided that they could forego the library for today. She gunned the gas, heading straight home to that bed and that candy as soon as humanly possible.
Beyond the Skinny Branches 