The world’s a dreadful place, she thinks. Everybody’s dying so might as well be dying while looking cool. She draws her cigarette in deeply as she looks at herself in the mirror in a state of daze. She puts on heavy dark lipstick and smacks her matte lips together. She slathers her eyes with heavy eye liner and brings out a few of her blonde hair strands forward. Looking outside the window, she squints her eyes. What a dreadful day, she makes herself believe.
She closes the curtains and lays down on the sofa. In social media sites, she “likes” a series of couture handbags and dresses on starlets who are on keto diet. She watches a video on how to count for calories then proceeds to watch a cooking show about making home-made popcorn chicken. She then drives down to KFC and buys herself popcorn chicken, ice cream, and Pepsi.
She goes back home and eats it all fast. A few hours later, she pays her bills; all her income gets reduced to payments on her brand-new car, her two-bedroom high rise apartment where she solely lives, and useless shopping spree expenses. She looks at some items on the rack next to her wide screen TV and doesn’t even remember when she bought them. She looks back at her phone and “likes” a few more photos of skinny girls in trendy vacation spots. Then, before it was time to go to sleep and before a hearty meal of bacon the next morning, she goes to the bathroom and throws up all her popcorn chicken, ice cream, and Pepsi. She looks at the mirror and sucks in her stomach. She’s still skinny, she thinks, then goes to bed. In her sleep, she has nightmares about screaming pigs on their way to a slaughterhouse. She wakes up early with a headache, but there’s Colombian coffee to make it alllll worth it, she thinks to herself. A dabble of highlighter makeup, a cake full of foundation over her skin, a thick wool coat, high waisted skinny pants, leather high heel boots, and she was ready to head to work.
On her way to work, she swerves through the roads and gets frustrated with traffic. At work, her day is full of meaningless meetings and she’s tired, so she fills up more coffee. She makes fast decisions and pretends to have the answers to everything. She sends some nasty emails, gossips about a weird employee because she’s insecure about her own self, and overworks until late evening because she wants to be seen as hard working. Then she cheers goodbye to a few people left at the office who themselves are trying to appear hard working, and then hastily drives off home.
At home, she orders a box full of pepperoni pizza, drinks a bottle of beer, and binge watches crime TV shows. That night, she forgets to throw up before bed, so she throws up the next morning instead. She rinses her mouth with potent mouthwash and whitens her teeth with an unknown substance before blow drying her thin hair. She smokes her cigarette with coffee at the same time as she rushes to beat traffic again. On the way to work, she stops by Tim Hortons and orders a bacon sandwich. She chews it down with one hand while driving with the other. She starts getting a headache after having a sleepless night filled with crime scene nightmares. Before getting out of the car and heading to her office building, she pops open a bottle of pain killers and anxiety medications and gulps it down with her coffee.
It was just another day for her and others around her in the city that they lived in. Gray shirts and black coats, blow dried hair, leather shoes and designer handbags. She was a success story. A living breathing hot chick who earns her own money and has a brand-new car. She was the American Dream. She applauded herself, as she opened the building door and walked into her corporate world.