More traffic. More classic 80s music. But I have to turn it off when I hear I Want To Know What Love Is. The last thing I need is a romantic ballad. I should call in and request Manic Monday.
An hour later, I’m in my office, staring at the laptop screen but not getting much work done. Scratch that. I haven’t done shit for the past 33 minutes. It’s like something inside of me has shut down.
Maybe I’ve lost my passion for quality control, not that it was ever overflowing, but maybe I just don’t want to do this anymore. Or maybe it’s all Angelo’s fault. If he hadn’t been so seductive then I would be able to stop thinking about him and finish this damn report already.
I open my purse and glance at my cell phone. No missed calls. No new texts. Just an email coupon for 10% off at Burger City. I keep forgetting to unsubscribe to that shit.
Okay. It’s official. Angelo is out of my life. Isn’t this what I wanted? I practically broke up with him before our food even arrived. But there is a part of me that wants to see him fight to save our relationship. Even though it’s not a real relationship. I’m holding out hope for some grand gesture.
Like maybe he will send a dozen roses today and make all the women in the office jealous. Or maybe he’ll write a handwritten love letter and leave it at my door. Or maybe he’ll just show up at my front door tonight, completely naked under a trench coat. Mmmm. That’s a lovely thought.
But I know better. He did make an attempt. It wasn’t like anything you see in the movies but he did call and text multiple times. And I pressed the ignore button again and again.
There’s a knock at my door.
“Yeah?”
I hear Ted’s voice.
“Greetings and salutations!”
“Come in.”
“Hey, you about done with that report?”
“I’ll have it finished before lunch.”
“Okay. They’re on my ass about it. Especially the… Cathy?”
“Huh?”
“You alright?”
“Yeah.”
“You seem a little distracted.”
I blink away a tear. Oh God. I’m falling apart here.
“Cathy?”
“Oh, it’s nothing. Just allergies.”
I reach for a tissue.
“If you ever need to talk to anyone about anything, HR has resources available. I know this job can be stressful. And I don’t mean to put any pressure on you.”
“I’m fine, Ted. Totally fine!”
“Okie dokie.”
Somehow, I make it through rest of my eight-hour work day without having a complete and total breakdown. But this is just the beginning. The tough part lies ahead.
I really wish I could talk to Angelo. But that would be a mistake. If I got him on the phone, I’d have to explain everything. And I just don’t have it in me.
I drive home. I take the long way. I think about stopping into Burger City and using my coupon, but I pass. I’ll have some leftovers for dinner tonight. I’m just in that kind of mood.
After I eat, I stare at the TV screen feeling overwhelmed by sadness, and loneliness, and emptiness. I think that about does it for the nesses. I can’t stop thinking about how much my life will change in the next few months. Possibly the next few weeks.
I wish there was a way to slow this thing down. Or maybe it would be better to speed it up? Get it over with. No. I doubt I have the guts for that. And that would involved me actually acknowledging this whole thing and actually going to the doctor!
Maybe denial is better? They say that if you just pretend that nothing is wrong—like if you just ignore it, it’ll go away all by itself. Unlikely…but why be miserable about something you can’t change.
I head to the kitchen and pour some scotch in my glass. I pick up my phone and scan to Angelo’s name. Everything inside of me wants to press the call button. But I chicken out and call Zoe instead.
“Hey!”
I take a long drink.
“Cathy? You there?”
“I’m here.”
“What’s up?”
“Nothing. Just watching mindless TV.”
“What is it?”
“Some goofy reality show.”
“Sounds like fun … How did everything go with Dr. Patel?”
Oops…time to lie. “He said I’m doing alright for now, just to stay on the meds.”
“Well, that’s hopeful.”
I swallow a lot of scotch and slur my words.
“Yeah, yeah…they’re going to do more tests.”
“Cathy? Are you okay?”
“Well…you know...”
“I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just, you sound weird.”
“I’m drinking.”
“On a Monday night?”
“Why the hell not?”
“Okay …”
“Don’t you dare judge me, bitch.”
She laughs. “You know I would never, ever judge you. Me of all people!”
I can’t help but smile.
“So when is your next appointment? I want to go with you.”
“Um, I wrote it down, I’ll let you know.” Where this is to leading…I have no idea.
“Good. Text it to me. I’ll be there.”
“You don’t have to.”
“Stop it. I’m going. And afterwards it’s burritos and tequila.”
“If you insist.”
“Have you talked to Angelo about this yet?”
“I haven’t talked to him much at all lately.”
“What?”
“We kinda broke up.”
“Why? What the hell happened?”
“He was perfect and I walked away from him.”
“You did what?”
“I had to. He was starting to get serious. And it isn’t right to let him get close to me like that.”
“Why don’t you let him decide?”
“Zoe, come on! Tell him that I’m months away from certain death? Talk about laying a serious guilt trip on a guy.”
“So, instead of telling him the truth, you just dumped him out of nowhere? You think that’s better?”
“Of course it is.”
“Cathy, you need to just talk to him already.”
“No. It’s not right. Nothing good would come from that.”
“But …”
“Angelo has already given me more than enough. I’ve got all the memories of the fun we had. Why complicate things?”
“Because he likes you, and I know you like him. And I know it’s killing you to …”
“The thing that’s killing me is this fucking disease. I’ll be fine. I don’t need Angelo. And I’m sure he can function just fine without me.”
“Come on …”
“He called and texted a couple of times over the weekend, but I haven’t heard from him all day, so I’m sure he’s over me.”
“So, in other words, you ghosted him?”
“I didn’t ‘ghost’ anybody. I just … I just don’t see the point of us talking right now.”
“Cathy, is this really what you want?”
“It’s for the best. I’m not in the place to make any emotional investments right now. And the way he was talking at the restaurant. Well, it just rubbed me the wrong way.”
“What did he say?”
“His exact words were, I could see a future with you. And then I completely lost my shit because I know that will never happen. I can’t string him along, Zoe. But I know he’ll land on his feet. He’s probably on a hot date right now.”
“Why do you have to do that?”
“Do what?”
“Be so cynical.”
“I think I’ve earned the right to be, especially with everything that’s going on.”
“No. Don’t go blaming that. You’ve been that way since we first met, you and your neurotic fucking brain and your stupid diets make it worse. You’re not doing that anymore and every moment from here on out is precious. So—”
I
drink the rest of my scotch.
“Cathy, you should really rethink this. Angelo is into you. He’s really, really into you. And you might be selling him short …”
“Look, Zoe, I just don’t think it’s fair of me to put him through this. He’s a good guy and I think I know what he’d say. So I’m doing the responsible thing here. I gotta go.”
“Whatever. To be continued. Don’t forget to text me the doctor’s appointment.”
“Okay.”
I hang up and seriously contemplate getting more scotch. I decide against it. I slump into the couch, and my mind begins swirling with all types of thoughts. I love Zoe like a sister, but she’s totally wrong on this one.
Look, maybe I’m being an asshole here, but I just want to go out on my own terms. My mother spent way too long in that hospital—did I mention that I absolutely hate hospitals?—and in the end, none of it mattered. Why get in to a bed and get poked and prodded when there’s nothing that they can do? A year goes by far too quickly. I’d rather be here on the outside and just go out with a little bit of grace. Maybe even a little bit of style! That’s not too much to ask is it? It’s my life after all! So I’m lying to Zoe, it’s the path of least resistance. I know what I’m doing.
Chapter Fifteen
It’s been days. I walk into Pam’s office. She’s the head of Human Resources. This is my first time here, and I can tell she’s surprised to see me. Pam has blonde hair streaked with gray. She pushes her glasses up high on her nose to get a good look at me.
“Close the door and have a seat.”
I shut the door and sit down in the comfy chair. It’s probably the softest piece of furniture in the whole building. I can only imagine all of the confessions these four walls have been privy to.
“What can I do for you, Cathy?”
I know she’s wondering what the hell is going on. I can see her mind at work. Sexual harassment? No. She probably dismisses that out of hand. I don’t have boobs like Gina Borkowski in accounting or legs like Lynn Williams in purchasing. But Pam doesn’t have a clue.
Frankly, I managed to shock myself today because this just couldn't wait. I insisted on seeing her immediately. It’s not like I have any time to waste. I can hear the invisible clock counting down; only months left before I’m a footnote in this game called life.
“Pam, can you look up how much vacation time I have?”
“That’s what this is about?”
I nod.
She punches in something on her computer keyboard. Her eyes get wide.
“Hold on a sec. This can’t be right.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Cathy, you’ve never taken a vacation day since you’ve been working here?”
“Nope.”
“Well as you know, we only roll over a certain amount every year and the rest is paid out in your annual bonus. So, according to this, you have 18 vacation days.”
“Really?”
“Yep. Planning a big trip?”
“Thinking about it.”
“Where to?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Florida is nice.”
“I’m sure it is, but I really want to travel abroad. I’ve never even been out of the country.”
“You’re kidding!”
“Nope.”
“Well, have fun wherever you decide to go. Just give me a written notice of when you’ll be out of town, and you’ll be all set.”
“Thanks.”
“No worries.”
I walk out of her office feeling a sense of excitement that has eluded me since my split with Angelo. Oh God. Why can’t I stop thinking about him for one minute? What’s wrong with me?
I miss him so much, but so far, I’ve been strong. I haven’t texted, called or sent up smoke signals. I don’t even know what the point would be now.
I wonder if he even remembers me? I’m just probably another notch on his leather belt. Nothing special. I highly doubt he’s sleeping alone. I can picture him now with some model type who doesn’t mind fucking with all the lights on.
As for me, my bed is cold and empty. Sometimes, I sleep with a pillow between my legs fantasizing about the way Angelo used to touch me. Pathetic. I know. I don’t need any reminders.
And Zoe is always in my ear telling me to call him. She just doesn’t get it. How could she possibly understand what I’m going through? Her biggest health crisis to date has been a sprained ankle after some yoga pose went awry.
But I shove all the negative thoughts to the side as I step back into my office. I’ve got a vacation to plan! Where the hell am I going to go? It’s anyone’s guess.
Since I’ve been in the mood for random things, maybe I’ll let fate decide. I pull up a map of the world on my laptop and close my eyes. I point at the screen. Wherever I land, that’s where I’m headed!
I open my eyes and see my finger pointed squarely in the middle of Antarctica. This shit was a terrible idea. I’m not spending my dying days surrounded by snow and penguins.
Fuck that! I’m going to Europe. That’s been on my non-existent bucket list for quite some time. I’m intrigued by the culture and beauty of the continent, not to mention the food.
When I first started my diet, I forced myself to stop watching the culinary shows in France and Italy. All the breads! Those breads hypnotized me through the screen.
Well, that’s a thing of the past. I’m going to gorge on bread and every high calorie treat that I see. I’ll probably gain so much weight, that the airline will make me buy two seats on my way back home.
But I’ve got the money! Not cash but a small fortune on these credit cards. I’m going to travel in style. I want everybody at the airport to assume that I’m an heiress to some fortune!
I go online and buy a first class round trip ticket for Milan. I can’t wait to see the world’s fashion capital and treat myself to some expensive clothes, and shoes, and purses. It’ll be fun.
My hands shake as I close the screen. I can’t believe I just spent that much money on a plane ticket. Oh well. There’s no turning back. Italy, here I come!
When I get back home, I rummage through my closet. I don’t like much of anything. Reminds me too much of the old me. The only thing I have that’s remotely sexy is the outfit I wore the night I hit on Angelo, and I definitely can’t wear that again.
That mini skirt is wrapped up in sad memories. I should get rid of it. In fact, I should just shop for a whole new wardrobe. Why the hell not? I’ve still got plenty of credit cards.
For dinner, I order Domino’s. It’s standard stuff but I’m dreaming about how delicious an authentic Italian pizza will be. I can’t wait to experience that along with the wine and the desserts. Mmmm! I’m going to go wild on some cannoli. Not that cannoli!
Have you ever noticed how you can’t reheat Domino’s the next day? You’ve got to have it fresh! Oh the greasy goodness! After I stuff my face with three slices, I flip through the channels on TV. Nothing much is on. I want to call Angelo, but I will myself not to. I should probably just delete his number from my phone altogether, and just axe the temptation already.
I call Zoe. Her phone goes to voicemail. Some annoying Zen music blares in my ear followed by her greeting:
“Peace and love, please leave a message and may your aura be cleansed.”
She speaks about cleansing auras like it’s the same as cleansing a colon. My best friend is on her own planet sometimes. But I love her to the core.
“Hey, it’s me. Call back when you get this. When are you gonna change that message? It’s weird!”
I hang up and take a deep breath. I wonder if she’s on a date tonight. A terrible thought flashes in my mind. What if she’s out with Angelo? No way. Zoe wouldn’t do that to me.
I’m getting way too paranoid about this man. Maybe I should just call him back? Hopefully, he won’t be too upset that it took eight days to return his messages. Hopefully, we can pick up right where we left off.
&
nbsp; I’m not too proud to beg him for a second chance. But am I really ready to tell him about my condition? I should probably pour myself some scotch first.
And maybe it’s best not to discuss this on the phone. This is more of an in-person conversation. Maybe I’ll just get in my car and drive over there right this minute. But what if there’s a woman there? What if it’s Zoe?
Ugh! I need to stop. If this disease doesn’t kill me then my anxiety certainly will. Wait. Wasn’t increased anxiety one of the symptoms? I forget now. There were so many on the list. I think forgetfulness was one of them, too. Son-of-a—
I scan to Angelo’s name and hover my finger over the call button. My heart is racing. I’m actually about to do this. I take a deep breath.
Just then, Zoe calls. Saved by the bell. I was about to do something extraordinarily stupid. I answer immediately.
“Hey.”
“Hey, just walking through the door. I had a taste for those sweet potato fries.”
Her voice is muffled.
“Mmmm!”
“You should have brought me some.”
She laughs. “So I guess you’re done with that diet?”
“I’ve been done with it … So guess where I’m going?”
“On a date with Angelo?”
“No.”
“Why? Haven’t you called him?”
“We are not rehashing this again, Zoe. I told you …”
“I don’t get it. You meet your dream man and then just ghost him.”
“You know it’s more complicated than that.”
“Only because you insist on making everything so damn complicated.”
“I have a gift. What can I say?”
She laughs. “Where are you going, missy?”
“So I talked to HR and found out I have a ton of vacation days so I’m gonna blow through all of them.”
“Good for you. Where to?”
“I’m going to Europe. Italy to be exact.”
“Wow! You’re gonna love it over there. The food. The sights. The men.”
“I’m not thinking about men.”
“Right. There’s only one Italian lover in the whole wide world for you.”
“Can we have one conversation without bringing him up?”
“Why? I know you miss him?”
I hold back a smile.
Dieting Makes Cathy Crazy Page 12
