I am so relieved. I am relieved that Garth Stein did not bring Enzo with him to his talk about his New York Times Best Seller, The Art of Racing in the Rain because I would have eaten him. Yes, I would have devoured Enzo’s decaying corpse and wiped the moldy tendons from my lips the same way that Enzo licked the squirrel’s blood off his face and ate curdled yogurt off the baby’s highchair. In fact, I was so hungry that while Stein was sharing tales about the writing process and how tough it was to sell a book narrated by a dog, I stared at his burgundy loafers, wondering if there was a piece of gum or sticky Laffy Taffy on his soles. Hunger replaced the excitement that I felt earlier.
So consumed by anticipation for the event, I spent most of my day bouncing back and forth between housework, laundry, and Facebook – doing none of them with focus or concentration. Well, with one exception, I did manage to write blog entries, Facebook posts and emails about my hot black leather boots. My boots consumed all my thoughts and distracted me from properly doing my husband’s laundry. One load of pants, one load of dress shirts and one load of socks and underwear. It was the same every week until this week. I forgot to turn on the dryer for the third load, resulting in soggy socks and dripping underwear 15 minutes before my husband was scheduled to catch the airport shuttle.
My laundry faux-pas resulted in me driving my husband to the airport, eating half a bambino burger from Good Times in the car and arriving 45 minutes late to the chic restaurant where the Book Club Mamas were meeting for appetizers and drinks before the author talk. Not wanting to appear undignified, I declined offers of both bread and crackers. I soon realized this was a mistake when I started seeing parachutes landing behind the author’s head and the six rows in front of me looked like gigantic Hershey bars. Next time, I’ll just drop my earring and pick up the scraps, or I could just arrive promptly.
