You know what’s annoying about autumn?
“It’s not autumn yet, June.”
You know what’s annoying about you?
What’s annoying about autumn is that, at least here, you wake up one day and it’s sunny and 85 degrees, and then you wake up the next day and it’s cold and raining your ass, as my old neighbor Alicia used to say, as possibly English was not her go-to when it came to the languages. I could have listened to her say things wrong all day, and in fact often did.
Now, that’s when I shoulda been blogging, back in my Alicia days. From 1999 till 2005, when we lived in a fabulous duplex in LA…
It was built in the ’40s, that duplex, and it had character, as did our closeted old landlord who lived above us. Anyway, from 2002 till we moved out, I freelanced, usually sitting in that pink chair in that dining room bay window, which gave me a wonderful view of the whole neighborhood, as we were situated on top of a hill. (Also, Marvin, did you take all those goddamn juice glasses? We had them in large and in small and WHERE ARE THEY?) (Also, look. A real phone. How cute. How retro.) (I wonder what I’d been snacking on, with my wadded-up paper towel. I can almost guarantee you that juice glass had white cranberry in it.)
Eventually, I became friends with my neighbor Alicia, and she’d get home from work around 3:00, and when she did, I’d TOSS down my freelance, SCREAM down my hill, and drink instant coffee with her in her kitchen while she complained about the celebrities’ houses she cleaned.
You know the celebrity who recently went too far with a joke about the president’s severed head? “Mija, she is a fuckin’ B!” Alicia once told me, which is my favorite thing, ever, because for Alicia, it was okay to say “fuckin'” but not “bitch.”
I have no idea what I was going to say about fall, up there. I guess that the weather is unpredictable. If, say, my no-nonsense boss had a blog, so far his blog post would read: Fall weather is unpredictable.
Oh, but speaking of bosses and ADD, last night I got up with my boss, fmr., who doesn’t work there anymore.
He left in May. We’d been working together for six years, wanted to catch up, so we said, Hey, let’s get a drink after work.
We talked for almost five hours.
Dear Boss, Fmr.,’s Wife: Please do not beat me up.
That was always our problem. We’d start with a conversation about should this have an en dash and 25 minutes later be discussing the merits of India ink. And last night, I said, “Hey, I forgot to tell you (seeing as we’d been on 39493939449 topics), I’ve been diagnosed with ADD, too!” My boss, fmr., always talked about his ADD, like it wasn’t obvious anyway.
“What? You?” he asked, clearly surprised, LIKE IT ISN’T ALSO OBVIOUS. We must have made an impressive team at work. The Keystone Copy Editors.
I told him the story of how my doctor forgot that particular prescription after our appointment in May, and called me way after to say, “I’ve written that Ritalin prescription for you, just come pick it up any time,” and then of course I NEVER DID, and finally they mailed it, and of course I never filled it even though I’m at the grocery store where my pharmacy is 11 times a week.
Finally, FINALLY, this past weekend I remembered to take it to the counter, and you all would’ve lined up to slap the pharmacist, like that scene in Airplane where they all line up to slap the hysterical woman.
“Oh, I don’t have this,” she said, trying to hand it back to me.
I physically stepped away from the paper. “Can’t you, you know, order it or something?”
“Well, yeah, but it takes a long time? And it might be, like…(she paused dramatically) FRIDAY before it gets here?” She pursed her lips, waiting for me to rip the prescription from her and scurry into the night.
“Oh!” she said.
“Look, it took me FOUR MONTHS just to get this thing here to your counter. It’s for RITALIN, did you see that part? Now that I’ve gotten this prescription all the way here, I’m willing to wait a few days for it to arrive.”
What if I take Ritalin and I become Roger Mudd or something?
Me and my Some Hair and my rain ass weather ought to get in the shower. I have no laptop at work, currently, so I’m showing up just for appearances, like Queen Elizabeth’s husband. It’s been spooling maddeningly any time I try to write an email, which is 70 times a day, so IT said, “After the holiday, bring it in and we’ll work on it for several hours.” We set up a time, which was 4:00 yesterday.
I even sent them a spooling email yesterday morning. “We still on for the laptop thing later today?”
Then at 4:00, I was writing a story and listening to the Pixies on my headphones and completely forgot to go to IT till about 4:57. Hey, June, did that Ritalin get there yet?
You know what’s annoying about autumn?