I am so Busy – Now Suck My Toes

Hi, I barely have time to write this ad, barely have time to date, barely have time to acknowledge the opposite sex, though I demand that men be impressed with my busy life and want to throw themselves at my rapidly moving feet. That is why I am typing these words while at the same time using my telephone headset to tell friends, family and business associates just how busy I am at the present moment, to say nothing of the next moment and subsequent moments stretching far into the future when I will be too busy to die of a heart attack; and why I am using my big toes to crotchet a scarf for a battered women shelter – and don’t think for a second that a gal with a bruised face and a broken radial bone does not forget about her problems long enough to shower praise upon the busy woman who drives her red convertible through the wall of the shelter to deliver thirty toe-crafted woolen neck warmers.

When I am not busy at my career of selling ad space on condoms (with the magnums representing the Super Bowl of peak rubber advertising), I am taking classes in Indo-Sino-Mauritanian Kickboxing; and if not that, then you will see me badgering my hairdresser on how she can attract more business while I put her in a headlock and twist her nose to demonstrate my toughness; and if not that, then you may catch me at my second job as a life coach for people smart enough to understand that my busy life automatically qualifies me as a Delphic Oracle; and if not that, then I will no doubt be training for my 27th Iron Man Triathlon and, in the process, emasculating any man unable to keep up with my regimen; and if not that, then making cooking videos for my web site that even my good friend, Rachael Ray, consults before doing her own program (and who, mind you, I destroy in competitive busy-ness); and if not that, then I am filling in the rest of my free time by being an attractive, hot female, or so say my friends when I am not saying it myself.

Often, to ensure that I max out the busy-odometer, I transform simple things into exotic feats of frantic endeavor. Here are two examples: I like to skydive (of course!), but it is not enough that I travel to the nearest plane-jumping school – nay, I must make all kinds of stressful accommodations to get down to Patagonia and there jump out of a plane with a sexy Chilean named Javier, who I permit myself to have sex with in that in makes me appear a more interesting woman. Why go for a walk around my neighborhood when I can wait on an airport runway for six hours so that I can perambulate the streets of Lisbon, which allows me later, upon my stressful return, to say, “I love walking Lisbon in the morning?”

In sum, I am passionate about being passionate about my busy life, which leaves little room for me to be passionate about a man. But that does not matter, as most men will chase me all over the world, telling me, an attractive, passionate woman, that they are in love with me – and that gives us something in common.