Man oh man. . . I'm a selfish goof.  I feel horrible or terrible--whichever word works best.  When I went to the factory yesterday morning, my old secretary was sitting with my new one.  For a few weeks, I will have two.  I said hello to the new secretary and asked about her holidays, then I asked the old one what she did. 

"I had my birthday party," she said in an onerous tone. 

Holy shit!  I had completely forgotten.  She had sent me an invitation a month ago.  I lost it, so she gave me another one.  It was a big deal for her.  She was turning sixty and retiring, and she had spent a ton of money renting the ballroom of a hotel and having the thing catered.  It was Saturday.  I was sitting in one of my new chairs drinking scotch and doing nothing.  I just forgot. 

There is no making this right.  There is nothing I can do.  I am an idiot. 

I can't quit sweating in embarrassment and. . . whatever that other emotion is. 

The new secretary seems nice.  I'll be catching shit about hiring her for a long time.  She is a tall bottle blonde in her twenties.  Selavy. 

But the truth is, as I cocktailed my way through the holidays, I was depressed and concerned about myself and my emotional state.  I thought of nothing but me and my emotions.  There was this girl, you see.  And. . . well. . . we never said goodbye.  Whatever happened is simply a mystery to me.  I mean, it isn't, but it is.  When I got divorced, people would ask me, "What happened?"  What can you say to a question like that?  "I think she quit liking me." 

That is always the simple answer, I guess.  And if you are anything like me (and we can only hope that you are not), you can understand it.  It just makes sense. 

I have a self-esteem problem.  The big ego is a cover for the other. 

Anyway. . . none of the options are very good.  Here is what I can come up with:

1.  She died
2.  She went mad and was institutionalized
3.  She likes someone else more
4.  She just doesn't like me at all

I guess I'd have to pull for #2.  It is better than #1, I think.  The other options could use more specific detail, but not here I think. 

So. . . because I was being dopey about a girl, I made a major life blunder.  I mean my secretary and I have been together for fifteen years.  She calls herself my "work wife."  She does the work.  She has my back.  I don't know.  Maybe I could take her on a cruise or something.  Even that, though. . . .

Still. . .  I have replaced her.  Maybe there are larger lessons to be learned there.