Day 29 | Clean as a Rose After Rain | Those Smells from Pizzeria Regina Are Killing Me
I lost my mind.
I overheard myself talking in an interview to a silly and vibrant girl who reminded me of SJP in L.A. Story. At Liberty Mutual in Back Bay. I sounded bright. Like, I knew what I was talking about. Silly Girl was talking about this enormous, kludgy system, “the project,” and when she stopped to take a breath, she said, “what do you think?” As in, what is my opinion on how to tackle the problem.
I wasn’t nervous. I was confident.
One word comes to mind, I told her.
As in architecture. Creating a map or set hierarchy in which to roll out the project.
I hadn’t lost my mind here, you see.
I gained it back.
I wasn’t overwhelmed or worried about saying the wrong thing, tripping over my words.
My head was clear.
Not bloated from eating a bag of Green Mountain Tortilla Chips with Chex Mix mixed in; no lasting effects from drinking the amount of alcohol the night before that could anesthetize a wild boar.
I am a clearheaded, educated individual.
An hour later, Silly Girl led me and the dog to the bustling reception area and took my hand in hers.
“Nice to have met you,” she smiled.
“See ya, sister,” I said.