Thursday, November 03, 2005

And Now It's time for a Break Down


Today, Frau Foxtrot and G2 went out to lunch without inviting me. Alone in the office, I ate my leftover sandwhich from my last lunch with GOTM. I got a text message from him saying he got home safely and that he would call the office tomorrow. I felt myself tearing up.

I took a cup of yogurt to my desk and opened my blog to being working on the post about the party at my Boss's house. Everyone trickled back in and when NewGuy asked what was going on, I told him I had word that GOTM had gotten home safely. No one cared. The Joker gave me some instructions, but I could see his eyes focus on my computer screen. "Tales of the Cupcake Mafia, what's that?"

"Nothing," I said, blushing.

"Oh, it's something personal. It sounds like the name of the play. Tales of the Cupcake Mafia, that's a show I'd like to see," he said slipping into the conference room. I had a very clear vision of my entire career washing down the drain. I had to get out of there. Fast.

I poked my head into the back room and announced I was going for a walk and would be back in a half and hour. No one looked up. In the elevator, I saw that I looked like a woman on the verge of tears. As soon as I got outside, I started calling friends, none of whom picked up, because they are all at work. Except for T-Diddy. T-Diddy is great like that. He told me that I am "bizarre".

I walked into The Food Emporium on Second Avenue. It was the nicest grocery store I have ever been inside of in New York City. There were lots of well-dressed women with nothing better to do at 2:30pm than push an empty shopping cart around a supermarket. I was close to having a nervous breakdown for no reason I can understand, so I was taking deep breaths. Looking at the food calmed me down, but even the discounted Halloween candy failed to excite me. I bought a box of reduced fat Triscuits because looking at the Trophy wives inspired me to cut my daily fat intake to only 250% of the recommended daily allowance.

Oh, and I saw the Cinnabon Pop Secret in one of the aisles, but I am in far too delicate of an emotional state right now to contemplate its significance.

14 comments:

Anonymous said...

Crying for no reason is my specialty! You can rest your pretty little head that someone in Alabama is working on something very special for you RIGHT NOW! Except when she takes breaks to blog, read blogs, and drop hammers on her toes, which is what I did about ½ an hour ago. The something very special is also fat free.

Cupcake said...

Alabama does not deserve you.

Anonymous said...

That's for sure.

Lizzie said...

I hate when people look over my shoulder when I'm blogging. so rude.

Do you mean the food emporium under the 59th st. bridge? Yeah, it's really nice. I saw a cockroach in the produce section once though and haven't been back since.

The idea of Cinnabon pop secret makes my stomach turn just a little.

Anonymous said...

Cheer the hell up or the next time I see you, I swear to God, I will staple you to a bar stool.

jesse said...

sorry blogfriend. I'd make an e-frowny face but I have principles.

Cupcake Queen said...

If I was in New York City...I'd make you a cupcake!

Cupcake said...

Thanks guys. I'm feeling better today, so perhaps it is time to disuss the Cinnabon Pop Corn in a little more detail now. According to the box, it was cinnamon flavored microwave popcorn, with gooey icing you then squeeze over the warm popped corn.

Say what??

Anonymous said...

I have purchased and consumed the Cinabon popcorn. It is not a day I am proud of. I was just so oddly compelled to try it; the Devil made me do it. My boyfriend looked on in horror, helpless to stop me. I don't suggest anyone try it. It was repulsive.

Anonymous said...

Cinnabon popcorn sounds like some of the grossest stuff I've heard of yet.

Cheer up, Cupcake! You might be out one great monthly German, but you've got even more fun neighbors to play with! :)

ka said...

i just spent a chunk of time catching up on your life. It sounds pretty sweet I must say. You have your own place (sigh...), access to hundreds of the hottest and best cultural venues/restaurants/bars etc at your fingertips & rotating Germans?! Don't cry Nanc, you're doing pretty good.
PS - who's tspiffy?

Anonymous said...

When I'm upset for no reason at all, I sometimes like to put on some headphones (any portable music-playing device will do, no need for a nano here), and walk around the city pretending my life is actually a play or movie. It's bound to raise your feeling of self-importance, and can almost justify pathetic or unreasonable emotions (I'm completely lonely right now because that's how I'm SUPPOSED to feel in the second act!) I know it's weird and twisted to put things in perspective by pretending you are merely an actor in the story of your life, but I cannot tell you how walking down a really long city street listening to, say, Bittersweet Symphony, every once in a while does me good. When the drums kick in about a minute into the song? It's like finding that perfect little item at the Container Store (or Target) that up until now, you didn't even know you needed. Do try it. Or just make fun of me in a future post. Whatever feels good.

Cupcake said...

EV- T-Spiffy, aka T-Diddy might be known to you in real life as my friend Tom.

Skater, that is a brilliant idea. Going to work in the morning, when I am listening to music on my CrapPod, I like to pretend that I am in an Alicia Keyes music video. I smile a lot and rock out and just generally feel more sexy than I normally do. I am sure the other people on the train are thinking, "Damn white girl. There goes the neighborhood." Depending on the song, my commute seems either poignant or bitchin'. Really, it is neither of those things.

Anonymous said...

and for the record....i too was at work. it's just that it's not every day that i get a phone call from madame cupcake