These Are Dark Times For Me

For the past I don’t know how many weeks (months, possibly), there is always a pile of unread newspapers in the vestibule of my apartment building. Anytime I walk past I think to myself, Gee, why isn’t this person reading his newspaper? On Tuesday morning I looked down and my eye locked on the delivery label: it read my name. It seems that I am an unwitting subscriber to the Wall Street Journal, and have been for some time. I don’t think I’m paying for it (I certainly hope not!) and really, why would I – of very minimal financial know-how – sign up for the WSJ in the first place? So on Tuesday I figured I might as well read it while eating my bowl of cereal at my desk. Yesterday I forgot and walked right past it (habit!) but today I remembered and read it again. Sure, I kind of skip over the Money & Investing section but maybe it wouldn’t kill me to know what’s going on with the subprime market or how the iPhone’s price cut will affect the economy. Maybe I’ll even learn a thing or two, and next thing you know I’ll be signing up for the GMATs. Can’t get enough of that standardized testing, mmmhmmm.

I went out at lunch to try to buy a pair of brown leather flats that I put on hold this morning. Some people, when they incur a sports injury, go to physical therapy. I opt for retail therapy. Putting any weight on my right leg hurts something wicked so heels are out of the question. I thought I could cheer myself up with a pair of nice work-appropriate driving mocs (as opposed to the flip-flops I’ve been sporting) but of course they were too wide for my skinny foot. Throw me a bone here, Universe, will you? These are dark times for me, and pretty new shoes will help guide me through! Come on!

I bought a shirt on sale instead. I guess I’ll pull through.

After shopping I met up with Former Intern from Private Equity Firm, who looked adorably tan and Eurotrashy in his black polo, white shorts, black trendy sneakers and aviators. He was back from his summer in Greece and wanted to meet up to give me a present before he heads off to Impressive Ivy League College. He’s come a long way since the winter when he started as my intern and ARM made me find him a dermatologist to treat of his “severe acne.” Seriously. How did I ever sleep at night while working for that man?

Anyway, tomorrow is my sentencing hearing, also knows as my orthopedist appointment. Hopefully the good doctor can tell me why I can ride 50 miles on my bike but I can’t walk without whimpering. If the verdict is NO RUNNING I’m getting a second opinion.