What’s on the menu?
by Bella Rum
Tonight is the night. I’ll drink my lovely prep juice at 8 p.m. I had two scrambled eggs for breakfast, and it’s been apple juice, lime gelatin, and disgusting chicken bullion ever since. I haven’t been very hungry. It’s all a great success so far. Of course, I haven’t really started yet.
I signed my will and got it notarized yesterday. My friend brought her will along, and we killed two birds with one stone. The notary’s name was, no kidding, Donald Ameche. Can you believe Don Ameche notarized my will? Who among you can say that? Then H took us to lunch.
I must be channeling Howard Hughes. I’m close to locking myself in a room for a couple of months during flu and cold season. I never used to give a second thought to those people who take their germs around to share with others, but I’m quickly becoming a germaphobe. My friend’s daughter met us for lunch yesterday. I’ve known her since the day she was born, over thirty-six years. I haven’t seen her for a while, so I was very happy she joined us.
I hugged her, kissed her and generally pasted myself all over her (Will I ever learn?). As soon as we sat down at the table, she coughed and said, “Oh, I feel so terrible. My throat is burning, my sinuses are stopped up, and I feel warm.” She sat across from me, and coughed through the entire meal. She did cover her mouth, but…
I love her, but you know? Come on.
This would never have bothered me a few years ago. I had such a magnificent immune system. If I had that immune system today, I’d take it around the talk show circuit, I’d buy it new designer shoes every month, I’d put fresh sheets on its bed everyday. You get the drift. I’d appreciate that precious, little thang. Now my poor immune system is like that runaway dog. The posters around town read, “Have you seen this dog? Black and white, weighs twenty pounds, missing one eye, walks with limp, has a bad case of mange, answers to Lucky.” I should have understood I was lucky before I got mange.
Off to take a shower, shave my legs, and wash my hair before the evening festivities begin. Of course, I’ll shower again in the morning. I must sparkle for my close-up. Wish you were here. I’d gladly share what’s on the menu.