Day dream

It’s easy to dream of a “perfect day” where time, money and transportation aren’t factors.
(If that were that case, I would be lounging on a beach in Morocco or zip lining through the Amazon. Or buying clothes in Tokyo---I wouldn’t have to get pants hemmed there!!!)

But, as far as thinking of a dream “average” day?

Howard Stern would be just starting to interview a celebrity when I'd get in the car, and I’d have the whole 40-minute drive to work to hear it, uninterrupted.
I wouldn’t forget my cell phone on my bed.

18-wheelers wouldn’t drive up my ass or wave to me through their tall, tiny window on the long stretch of interstate I drive everyday.
(Have you ever looked in your rearview mirror and seen a MACK truck inches from your bumper? Imagine Dionne in Clueless, and Murray’s face.)

My office would send out a mass email: “Hello, wonderful workers. We have decided to switch out our coffee maker with a Chai tea pot. Take as much as you want.”

My email inbox at work would be filled with “thank you” emails: “Thanks for taking the time to write that article,” people would say. “I’m sure you stayed up very, very late before deadline to get that in and I appreciate it. You’re a star!”

(This hardly ever happens. People only email me when they are mad about something printed in the paper. Such as, “For the record, you got about 50 percent of what said accurate. At least the quote was correct and not taken out of context.”)

Lunchtime would be at my favorite soup place near my work. When I arrive, they would not have run out of any of their soup specials (it’s a crapshoot) and the servers would be on task and I’d eat within a reasonable amount of time (another crapshoot).

I wouldn’t get stuck waiting on a train to get through town. I’d get to read the daily newspaper without sections missing…ahem ad reps.
I wouldn’t have crazy people coming to the office to talk to me about government conspiracies.

Sir, raising taxes is unfortunate, but I wouldn’t call it a conspiracy. You would? Ok, well, I’ll look into this right away.

No one would email me at work for one full hour. My inbox is always stuck at 40 unread messages no matter how many I read and respond to. (They never stop. Sometimes I have nightmares about drowning in them.)

I’d go to the gym and not have to watch FOX News when I’m on the treadmill. Someone would say, one time, that they aren’t watching both TVs, and I’d get to switch one to the Food Network.

I’d come home to find the house clean, the lawn mowed and the fridge stocked with imported beer. There would be no bills in the mail.

I thought about this “dream day” as I drove to work this morning. And you know what? I wasn’t harassed by 18-wheelers! In fact, everyone was driving very, very well (a shocker in South Carolina.)

Howard Stern was interviewing Michelle "Bombshell" McGee of swastika homewrecker fame right as I got into the car. (She said she didn’t realize Jesse James was married to Sandra Bullock when they had an affair. And what about that swastika tattoo? "It's just a small one." She nuts.)

When I got to work today, I was floored by an actual thank you email. It was even more meaningful because it was about something that was a huge pain to get in the paper. You’d think sending a press release and photo by email would be easy.

“Ma’am, you need to send us a photo with a larger resolution ….you don’t know what that means? Ask your grandson.” The article was finally printed in today's paper.

The morning email from her said,

“Hey Jenny precious girl....THANK YOU SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO MUCH! I fully expect to sell all our tickets as the result of that article.”

Precious girl! I like it. I forwarded the email to my boyfriend, so he’d know how cute people think I am. Haha.
No, really, I did.

It’s not even noon, but I feel like Ice Cube: “Today was a good day.”

Maybe I’ll give the soup place another try.

-Jenny