September 7, 1998
Maybelline & Playtex = Optional

"Labor Day" ... another one of those non-holidays, significant only in the fact(s) that 1.) I slept an extra hour this morning, and 2.) I will not be required to wear anything manufactured by Maybelline or Playtex today. (Unless of course I get invited to attend some sort of fabulous LABOR DAY SHINDIG or something ...)
It is a beautiful, pre-autumn Oregano morning. From my third floor window, I can see nothing but sunlit treetops ... blue skies ... birds peering through my window at me.

Bird #1:  "Yo! Secra! You're not wearing any Maybelline or Playtex!"

Bird #2: "That's because it's LABOR DAY, dumbshit. She's got the day OFF."

I sit here with my second cup of bitter black coffee, looking at the sunshine and planning my day. I have no clue what I'm going to do. The bus isn't running (due to the fact that it's this amazingly important significant HOLIDAY and everything), so I'll most likely be stuck here in The Treehouse. I expended all eleven of my *domestic molecules* earlier in the weekend, doing laundry and alphabetizing my oven mitts.  I did the Obligatory Weekend Barbecue with *Someone* on Saturday ... I talked to two-thirds of The Tots on the phone on Sunday ... I spent $36.89 at Freddy's yesterday, loading up on chicken boobs and frozen lemonade and little white tea candles. There pretty much isn't anything left to do. Spend some quality time with Miss Clairol? Watch TV talk shows?  Hike over to the park with an egg salad sandwich and a notebook and sit under a tree, writing bad poetry?

(You know what? That last idea doesn't sound completely awful ...

Bird #1: "Extra ketchup on *my* egg salad, OK?"

Bird #2: "Cannibal."



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