So spaketh Herbert from on high, well from his thirtieth floor office in Manhattan. He really is on high. I should know, I used to have views like that, and it does tend to give you a feeling of looking down on everyone else, literally and figuratively. Instantly angry at his call, I didn’t respond like I was supposed to. During the three years of a pathetic loneliness in which I had barely existed, I had usually agreed with Herbert when he rang with his various edicts on spending etc., I had let his horrible underling, Amanda, pick out and install me in a crappy house I hated, I had endured the bossy presence of the fat judgmental personal assistant they had saddled me with, I had let time and events pass me by, and if I thought or hoped for anything during that time, it was that I wouldn’t wake up again ever from my medicated sleep. Milan coming had changed everything. Seeing her reminded me that I was still young and beautiful, that if I was living a life I hated I could change it.
