The Slow Motion Panic Attack

The past week has been a breeze – I’ve been in the zone – things have been taking care of themselves: dinner at Serendipity, finding a bathroom in Central Park, purchasing a size 2 (!!!) pair of skinny stretch pants (trousers) from Ann Taylor for $12.99 (I’m wearing them right now and boy it caused no end of rubber necking on my way to the Subway – American men are so much more obvious about it) and an immaculately cut wine coloured sleeveless shirt for under $9. And last but not least, the discovery of a friendly little steakhouse around the corner from my hotel that caters to my Dukan Diet requirements (grilled shrimps and sirloin steak for $20). It’s called The Outback Steakhouse and although the menu was speckled with pseudo-Aussie terminology the TV screens and the waiting staff were decidedly American and very friendly in a small town in the Midwest kind of a way. It was strange but endearing. A bit like Elle Macpherson’s accent.

I liked it so much I went back a second time. And here's the thing: the waiter from the night before (Carlos) came over to say hello… I’d ordered the same thing with the same requirements (no salt, no butter or oil, no seasoning, no nothing…) and he'd recognised my order when it was called out in the kitchen! We had a nice chat. Like I said, they’re real friendly folk. That means a lot when you’re alone in a big city.

Anyway, all that good feeling, that was last week.

This week may turn out a bit differently. For one, the weather’s turning. That unsettling combination of high UV and overcast skies, with violent showers hovering around the edges of town and the relentless return of the humidity. Add to that the fact that it’s Monday morning and the rather anti-climactic rescheduling of a client meeting from early this morning to this afternoon, and there you have it: the classic set up for doing things the hard way, wrestling control from the universe and feeling small and anxious. Because although all bad things come to pass, so do all good things.

What can I do about it? Nothing. That’s the whole point. All I can do is sit pretty (in my Ann Taylor skinnies, white sleeveless top and red patent leather shoes) and let the times roll…

Bring on the day!