MAD CAP CAPER

I am in the shower halfway through my Secret Agent playlist (loads of John Barry 007 tracks and vintage Mobb Deep) before realizing that the cap on my head is silk not waterproof.  This dingle (ding bat) moment, unprecedented since the first time I left the emergency brake off of the Pathfinder, is henceforth to be referred to as  “the mad shower cap caper”- a sure sign that Simone has zoned out and left the building.   

After canceling all appointments (what else can be done with the Gold 'N Hot blow dryer on the fritz and my BLOND wig on loan to D.A.?), I spend the rest of the day working remotely and trying desperately to reset the clock.  It seems to me I am distracted?  Whipsawed?  Confused?  Or maybe I am just COLD!?   They (Wikipedia) say monarch butterflies can not withstand cold weather opting instead to a) hibernate or b) migrate away to a warmer climate.  Perhaps the ruination of my beetle mania bob was a defense mechanism; a destructive round about way to keep me home bound for a day.  The cure is easy enough.  I’m told it’s a high of 80 degrees in South Beach.  

Have LapTop Will Travel.