Excellence In Loving You Ch. 02

Before Chayne could even make it to her car she had already placed a call to her bestie Carly.

"This fucking quack has lost it! Girl I am talking about my vagina getting stretched out and he is asking me about the fucking sandman!"

Carly had a phone in one hand and a flat iron in the other. "What?? Shut the front door!" Before Carly could form her next sentence Chayne interrupted:

"Girl, I just feel so lost. Nobody gets me. What is it that I am searching for?"

Through uncontrollable sobs Chayne shouted: Why can't I just find love?

Carly had talked Chayne off the ledge a time or two so she was used to this. So used to this that she can render lifesaving advice while banging out a flawless flat iron job. As always Carly allowed Chayne to expel her demons both imaginary and actual. After the emotional outburst there is always a time of solace. It is very strange that it always happens that way.

Now speaking through sniffles Chayne thanks Carly for picking up the phone and apologizes for having such a tragic life. She says her goodbyes, sets her phone down and pulls down the sun visor in her car. Chayne is obsessed with her looks and reapplies her makeup several times a day. She uses so much make up she should have stock in Mac.

The tears have smeared her perfectly applied make up and left a trail of black mascara down her cheek. Her eyes are blood shot and swollen from crying and her nose is running. Chayne opens her purse and pulls out her makeup bag also known as the "fashion first aid kit". This is her therapy. When she removes her makeup she envisions herself wiping away all the deceptions and lies and darkness from her life. Once the darkness has been washed off she applies and fresh new face. She likens it to a mask being applied or better yet a shield.

This was a bad roller coaster she thought to herself. Now that she is calm she can step out of emotional mind and walk in wise mind. Wise mind says having a Physician ask about sleep patterns don't necessarily make him out to be a quack. She goes back in her mind and tries to rate her blow up on a scale of one to ten.

Hello guilt, my name is Chayne take a seat. Well it could have always been worse- she could have flipped his desk over and extinguished Dr. Blaze's Apple products with her urine. Let's rate this blow up a four out of ten and end it with an apology phone call. Of course the phone call will have to be delayed so she can avoid actually speaking to another human about the antics of her emotionally unstable behavior.

Gosh she loved voicemails. The voicemails that beep at the end of a 3 minute rant disconnecting you without the option of editing your message. Or better yet what about the voicemail that allows you to talk and talk and talk. If you are her you will utilize all of that time and fill it with as much profane, dark humored, inappropriateness as possible or you could use it as a plea to forgive unruly behavior- the latter would be most likely true in a case like this. He never really answers his phone anyway and the receptionist is on lunch so here goes:

"Thank you for calling Dr. Blaze and Associates, please leave a message with your name, telephone number and date of last check up and someone will get back to you as soon as possible....beep!"

Dr. B, hey it's Chayne. I apologize for storming out of your office so abruptly and I also apologize for calling you a quack. You are an awesome Doctor! You have done more than any other Physician and I want you to know I do value the time we spend together. I have been staying up late and it has been adding to my irritability- you were dead on when you asked me about my sleep before delving into my issue. I would like to follow up with you in beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

Fucking voicemails! Maybe if she didn't run her mouth so much it would be moot. Okay operation normal is in full affect. This will be a good day- she is determined to have a good day.

She really wanted to express to Dr. Blaze that she is just concerned with her promiscuity but if he is not bothered by her sexcapades then she is not either. I mean safe sex is a must and there is a screening process the men undergo but maybe she should pick up a rosary for protection and all.

The current time is 1:30pm and by the looks of her calendar it will be a jammed packed day. First order of operation is hitting the nail salon. She gets her nails done faithfully every two weeks. She is known at the Salon for being a big tipper so even if there is a line Chayne is showed preferential treatment.

See therein lies the problem. The symptoms of a fast paced life are so rewarding that she finds it hard to leave. She does not want to have different men in her bed with their hands touching her but they pay her attention and make sure all of her financial needs are taken care off.

There is a 5:00pm date with this gentlemen from Thailand. He is a six out of ten and had great conversation but the downfall is his mouth full of gold teeth and his hellacious case of halitosis. She should have time for a manicure, pedicure, brow wax, lip wax and full Brazilian wax. If there is not time then time will have to be made.

Absolutely nothing gets in the middle of her Spa Therapy. Her black sports car pulls up to the Salon. All eyes on her as she emerges looking flawless as ever.