A NEW DAY

The combination of multiple beers that I practically inhaled and those good old yellow pills must have knocked me out last night. Out of habit, I woke up at 5:30 am still sprawled across my fiancee’s precious white sofa. Ben was gone. I noticed a quarter-sized brown stain on the pristine white fabric and felt a bubble joyful of revenge inside me. People make mistakes, damn it! I slammed my hand on the sofa. She could have given me a chance.

I opened and closed my mouth, tasting it. It still tasted like beer. I headed for the bathroom to clean up. While brushing my teeth I recalled the dream that I had the night before. I had a strong history of remembering my dreams and it is very important to me since I make many of my most important decisions in my dreams. I dreamed that I had contacted my old firm, talked with my mentor and explained how terribly wrong everything had gone. I begged his forgiveness and pleaded with him to consider that I had a clean record with the firm. I humbly requested that as a tried and true money-maker for the firm, he should give me another chance and that he and the other partners could rest assured on my mother’s grave --unfortunately my mother was alive and well-- I would never let such an act of insubordination and emotional display of lack of control occur. Partners love when their subordinates express their ability to put everything and everyone that means anything to them below the partners. In my dream the partner replied, “We were hoping that you would call. We hated to lose you buddy. When can you come back?” Then I said, “Sir, I’m available to the firm immediately. I am ready, willing and able to serve at your pleasure.” I smiled as I brushed my teeth, remembering the happy dream where everything worked out and things at the firm changed. People were nicer, treated each other with respect and dignity we each deserved as professionals. This, my real life, it was the nightmare and my dream was my reality and I would bring it to fruition sometime today when I got the chance to sneak away from the contract attorney lock-down that I found myself in. It felt kind of stupid even though there was no one else around but I smiled, toothpaste foam lathered around my lips. I had figured it out and things would be back to normal soon.

I got dressed with a song in my heart and pep in my step. Everyone has set backs, I thought. These things make you stronger. Now I can say that I’ve been there and I’ve done that and I can get back on the road to the phenomenal success that is my destiny. Screw my fiancée! I’m still on my way to a great future and I don’t need her ass to get there!

I finished getting dressed, still riding high on my renewed confidence; I looked in the mirror and admired my clean shave and my freshly washed hair. For my day in the dungeon I dressed to fit my attitude. I wore washable slacks, a pair of brown leather loafers, a blue cotton button-down shirt and a universally appreciated blue tie—very toned down and not obviously expensive but classy enough to impress with my keen sense of fashion. My fiancée had taught me that. She told me that half of what makes a professional man is how he looks. She taught me what to wear, when and why. She also advised me the best hair cut that framed my face at it’s most attractive, as she said. She showed me how to stand with a posture that exuded confidence and how to walk into any room and command respect. Ours was a perfect pairing: great genes from me and top notch pedigree from her. Damn! Now I have to do it all for myself. The whole had become half.