Didya Miss Me? Didya?

I need a vacation.

I thought a little sabbatical from the holding pattern would help, but really, not writing only further depletes my sanity. And we all know I’m always just barely hanging by a thread.

I couldn’t stay away long, lovers. As my horoscope reminded me, “it's critical that you don't withdraw or shut down. Your tendency may be to steer clear of a sticky situation, but avoidance won't solve the problem.” THE STARS KNOW THINGS.

So back to vacations, you know, to avoid sticky situations like figuring out my future. I don’t know where I’d go or when or with what money, but I’ve been thinking about going somewhere alone, just to see if I could do it. Is vacationing alone cool or pathetic? I can’t decide. Yes, these are the kinds of crazy things I dream up when I’m a) not running and b) not writing.

Yesterday was a bad day. I mean, overall it was fine, except for this one little blip when a taxicab sideswiped me on my bike and smushed me between the cab and a road divider. I managed to walk away with just a few scrapes and bruises and without any damage to my bike that I couldn’t fix with my multi-tool, but I owe the Swear Jar about twenty bucks for the words I directed at that cabbie. Still, my cussing was drowned out by the line of traffic, with the typical level of New York City compassion, laying on their horns because they were missing the green light. Don’t mind me, down here on the ground under the cab! I’ll get out of your way just as soon as I make sure nothing is broken, jerks. Maybe my bike and I just need a vacation from Manhattan drivers.

Today is a much better day. At 4:51AM my alarm clock blasted Kanye’s “Stronger,” which is a pretty appropriate song to hear before cycling at such an ungodly hour. I was a little shaken up by yesterday's incident, but I’m very glad I went because somehow after these early morning rides with the girls I feel like I can handle the day without being such a hot mess. I actually washed and dried my hair. I’m wearing my favorite shoes and a new shirt that I even ironed this morning. I am JackieOh, Nice Hedge Fund Assistant, perpetual klutz and occasional heartbreaker, and I’m ready to take on the world in my red suede d’Orsay pumps. Really, they're fantastic shoes.

Easy just limped over to my desk and handed me his business card. I had no idea what was going on for an instant. As it turns out, he pulled out his back over the weekend, and his job title is spelled wrong on the new set of cards that just came in. He is not, in fact, the Global Marco Portfolio Manager, and the game “Macro, Polo” just doesn’t have the right ring to it. Ha, whoops. I’m calling the mail room now.