Job Description

A lot of you are probably wondering what happened with David. I bring this up because Jax saw him in midtown yesterday. There has been a Devil Spawn sighting! It's funny because I have not seen him in FOREVER, but I realized this morning that we are both going to a wedding in a few weeks, and that should be very interesting. Anyway, like I said previously--David and I used to be really close.We were never best friends but I always felt like I could count on him. So then when I couldn't, it was like the ultimate betrayal.
"Ahem."
I jumped out of my chair. Ross stood behind me, arms folded.
"Yes?" I asked innocently.
"You seem to be lost in thought. Thinking about your meeting with Holden and Monica later, I assume?"
"Um, yes." I pointed to my notes on the CJFF dinner. "I spoke to Holden earlier and confirmed. They'll be here at three."
"Great." Ross wandered off, replaced by Joe, the associate as-associate director. He stood reading over my shoulder for a minute.
"Looks good."
"Thanks."
"You going out anytime soon?"
"Out?"
"Coffee?"
I was dying for a cup. "You want?"
"You're the best!" Joe gave me a disarming grin and wandered off. I sigh with slight irritation and got up.
"Anyone want anything?" I called to the open-plan office. Heads picked up everywhere.
"Diet Coke!"
"M and Ms!"
"Dr. Pepper!"
"Coffee!"
I sighed again, grabbed my purse, and headed out. I have the doorman a vicious glare. "I am NOT a secretary," I hissed.
"I know." He grinned. "Can you get me a cup of coffee?"
ARGH.

As every Imelda knows, when you buy fabulous shoes you need to store them in a fabulous way. Especially if you cannot pay your ConEd bill, you might as well blow the rest of your paycheck and wait until you get the finasl shut-off notice. So that's how I found myself at The Container Store. For us people who like to pretend to be organized, the Container Store is our mecca. Containers for hangers, sweaters, sheets, toilet paper, containers. It's amazing. I wandered the aisles, marveling at how organized I could really be if I had thousands of dollars, and stood infront of the boxes made especially for shoes. I bought one box for my boots and another for my newest acquisition, and then meandered over to the closet organizers, just for fun. Not far from there, a small group of women sat in a circle of chairs.
"Sometimes I just need to be free from the clutter, " one woman said earnestly. Several others nodded. Was this some kind of Get Organized seminar? I inched closer.
"I don't know how to stop," a pert brunette said. "I just come home every day with new ways to organize the mail, organize the counters, organize the cabinets. I keep trying to simplify my life but instead it just gets more complicated!"
"Ladies," a woman interjected. I assumed she was the group leader. "That's just it. it's all about simplifying. And you CAN have a simpler, easier life, but you need to stop the addiction."
I took a step back and turned to a nearby salesperson who was stacking soap organizers. "Excuse me, but what is that group meeting over there?"
"Oh, that's our support group for compulsive organizers," she replied. "They meet once a week."
"Thanks." I turned my attention back to the meeting. One woman was now crying, holding a drawer organizer.
"I just can't not use it, " she sobbed.
I hurried to checkout, trying not to laugh. I know what you're thinking, so am I--WHAT?!

*based on a true story. Thanks, Laura!

The week dragged by. Ourquiet season started at work, which was both good and bad. I'm an events associate at Moxie Events and PR. Associate means I get paid less. With the holiday season over, we could all breathe a little. I left work at 5:30 two days in a row! I had done good work on the Wentworth Securities Holiday Party, and I had already blown my bonus on a pair of beautiful purple seude stilettos. I was drinking my third cup of coffee of the day and chatting with my friend Emily on the phone when I heard my boss heading down the hallway. "Gotta go," I whispered and quickly hung up.
"What's going on?" He asked.
"I'm waiting for confirmation on the flowers for the Ellington party." I said. "They said they would fax it in today. I called Sarah Marshall from the Ninth Avenue Restoration Project, they're going to send us their invite list no later than noon tomorrow."
He nodded and walked off. I breathed a sigh of relief.
"Hey!" He barked, coming back down the hallway. "I just heard from Sandy. We got the CFJJ Dinner. I'm putting you on it. Don't screw up."
He turned again and walked away. I jumped up to follow him. "Hey, Ross, wait, um...what?"
"Call Sandy and get the details. I want your outline by Monday."
"Um...Ross, wait, I-"
The door slammed in my face. The Carrington Foundation for Juvenile Justice was a huge coup for Moxie. And a huge project. Was he serious?
"So we aren't going to see you until the end of March?" Eliana asked later that night. I was flopped facedown on my bed,listening to Project Runway from the TV. I shifted the phone to my other ear. "Pretty much. It's our biggest dinner of the year."
"At least it's a cause you believe in," she commented. "Remember when you had to do registration for the Catholic Women's League of New York?"
We both laughed. "It is a good cause." I agreed. "I'm just going to be crazy busy. "
"Wha else is new?" Eliana replied. "I'm going to bed."
I groaned. "I am so tired!"
"Go to bed."
"I can't." I rolled over to look at the TV. "I need to find out who gets cut."
"Babe!" A voice called from the living room as a door slammed.
"Jax is here." I said. "I'll talk you later." I hung up as Jax burst into the room.
"GUESS who I saw in the lobby!"
"Who did you see in the lobby?"
"David!" She flopped down on my bed. "I made sure to mention you were home."
"Funny," I said. "He hasn't come by."
"You could always call him."
"I could also stab myself with my new shoes." I gestured towards the box on my desk, changing the subject. "Wentworth Securities."
"Niiiiice." Jax stroked the shoe. "What are you going to wear them with?"
I shrugged. "Black suit? I don't know, they were too pretty to pass up."
Jax pulled off her shoes and slipped on the stilettos. "Whoa, these are high!"
"Three inches."
"How are you going to walk in them?"
"Does it matter? They're Via Spiga and they were half off!"
Okay, so they were outrageous, even half-off it was more than I would normally spend on shoes. And they were purple. Kind of impractical. But who cares? I needed some happy shoes. And I got them.