Are you dating anyone?
How do you not know the answer to this? I literally talk to you upwards of nine times a day. You know the first name of my gynecologist and the fact that Joey, my doorman, made me cry yesterday when he called another girl pretty in front of me, and yet you don’t know if I’m dating anyone? No, mom. The answer is no. I am alone. Are you happy? I said it. I’m alone.
Are you eating well?
For breakfast this morning, I had a Clif bar and then contemplated throwing it up after I learned that the pile of chalk I had just consumed was 250 calories. After deciding against an eating disorder – because I’m pretty sure my company health insurance doesn’t cover rehab – I ate two packs of Gushers, a Fruit Roll Up, and three Diet Cokes. For lunch, I ate a Lean Cuisine – and then had another one at 3pm because I was absolutely starving. I haven’t eaten dinner yet, but given the pack of Oreos and bag of popcorn I shared with my cubicle mate at 5, I’ll probably skip the whole supper thing and just have a bottle or two of wine, instead. So, yeah, I’d say I’m eating pretty well.
Are you using protection?
No. How else am I supposed to trick a man into marrying me? Let me tell you, this is the only way.
Does your boss like you?
Ummm…I feel as though this is a tricky question. Him liking me would require him knowing who I am…which he does not. He once called me Sadie, which in all honesty, is pretty close. So, I wasn’t too bent out of shape about it. He likes the coffee I bring him in the morning and has only caught me napping under my desk seven times, so, yeah, I’d say we’re on pretty good terms.
Have you tried Weight Watchers?
Yes. I went in for my first “weigh-in” and had a panic attack. I never went back. Besides, what’s a number? Except that it is everything and if you offer to pay for it, I will gladly go back. Mom, I’m like…a whale.
What’s a Twitter?
It’s a virus. If you Google it, your computer will explode. Also, never Google my name, that’s also a virus. Better yet, just stop going online.
Why don’t you respond to my Facebook posts?
Because the only people still on Facebook are grandmothers and high school dropouts. Again, I told you to stop going online. You never listen to me.
Do you think Dad is having a midlife crisis?
You’re the one who gets her lips plumped and her forehead deadened every other month, yet it’s dad we’re concerned about? No, I do not think daddy is having a midlife crisis. I think he is just getting by with whiskey and cigars, and honestly, more power to him. If I had to live with you until the day I died, I’d be doing the exact same thing.
Have you thought about freezing your eggs?
Wouldn’t I have to take a break from drinking to do that? No, thanks.
Have you tried online dating?
I have. Remember how you were so incredibly thoughtful and in no way mean and hurtful and you got me that Match.com subscription for my 23rd birthday? I went on two dates, one with a balding divorcee and one with a 17-year-old who had used fake pictures in his profile. I’m honestly still expecting to be arrested for that one. Never again.
Why aren’t you more rested?
Well, for the past seven years, give or take a few hours, I have been living in a state of drunk or hungover. I’m honestly surprised that the bags under my eyes don’t look worse. Quite honestly, it’s a miracle…and you know, a lot of makeup.
Are you pregnant?
Christ. I wish. I could really use some time off from work. But in all seriousness, you need to be having sex to get pregnant. And other than the orgasms that my ears are currently experiencing thanks to this Mumford & Sons Pandora binge, there’s been no excitement in this girl’s life in a long time.
Are you a secretary?
I prefer the term Executive Assistant. Besides, my immediate supervisor said that if I start wearing shorter skirts that I’ll get promoted in no time. I’m not worried about it. Though I am hungry, so if you could please deposit some money into my account, that would be great.
Are you depressed?