Excerpt: Faking It

It’s Thursday morning, only two workdays to go before the big party. I’ m excited, and more than a little nervous. I know I’ll be dressed appropriately thanks to my generous Friend, I just can’t imagine making conversation that doesn’t begin with “due to my recent divorce”, or answering the inevitable marital status question with anything but a maudlin ‘I was married, but now I’m divorced”. It’s like saying “I used to have my life together, but now I’m a total failure.”
Ugh! I don’t think I can do this.
I glance at the clock and grumble. I’ve been lying in bed for about twenty minutes since the alarm clock heralded a new day. It’s getting dangerously close to ‘no chance to shower’ time. I know I have to start getting motivated to start my day. I keep thinking it will happen tomorrow, then tomorrow comes and I lie in bed for twenty to thirty minutes again. I’m hopeless. Right now I’d better drag my hopeless body to the shower so I don’t offend my co-workers with my stench.
By eight thirty I’ve had my third cup of coffee, my hair is clean and dry, and Im’ standing in front of my closet. I have days when the contents of my closet look like a thrift shop on acid. Today would be one of those days. Nothing seems to go together, blouses are falling off their hangers, and there are strange combinations of colors and sleeve lengths forming an ugly kaleidoscope of fabrics and textures. I quickly find my tried and true long dressy shorts in black. Toward the back I spot a periwinkle knit top I haven’t worn for a while, then I grab the black peep-toe pumps on top of the mound of shoes that gets higher everyday.
I dress quickly in the bathroom, being an expert multitasker I grab my toothbrush. While brushing I head to the full-length mirror in the corner of the bedroom. Mid brush I look up and immediately remember why I don’t wear the periwinkle top often.
My skin is washed out, the periwinkle knit casting a death-like shadow over my face. When did I become so pale? Its mid August, I’m usually tan and glowing by now. How long has it been since I spent any time in the sun? I run the past few months through my mind. Okay, divorce papers signed last month...No fun in the sun there. June? No, all free time spent packing up the house. May? No, that was the third month in a row I hid under the covers crying for a good portion of each day. That seals it, I have been living in a cave of misery.