Last Sunday evening…
I desperately needed my brain to calm the heck down and let me sleep. But I was so happy that just as I’d nearly drift off I’d bust out giggling again. I reminded my brain that it had a big day tomorrow and really must not be sleepy or blonde in any way. It responded with *giggle!* *hug self with happiness!*
So I began the regular nightly routine to try to trick myself into thinking this was just a regular night and that I hadn’t just gotten fabulous news. I tried counting shoes (…eleventy-two…eleventy-three) but just as it started to work my brain remembered all the shoes I do not yet have…which led to “Oh God! I want new shoes!” which led to “Oh God! Forgot God!”
And so I started my prayers. “Good Old Dude (GOD)! Hi! Hello! Oh and you aren’t really old. I don’t mean anything by that. So let’s not punish me with any more wrinkles, K? And God bless so and so and such and such and Prada and Gucci and Ferragamo and Bloomingdales and Nordstrom’s. Oh and sorry about that little incident with the box of Girl Scout cookies. Gluttony. Know that’s on the no-no list. Not my fault really…you know you forgot to mix in self-control that day you cooked me up. Or maybe that’s about the fact that we have free will? Was that a programming bug on your part? Oh, and that bit with the cussing when I looked at my online banking statement? Yeah. I think that maybe possibly covered 2 of the thou shalt nots but you know…compared to the people on all those reality shows I’m not really all bad and such, right? And thank you so much for that phone call I got tonight. *giggle!* How ironic! And could you maybe tell my brain to stop with the giggling and let me sleep? Oh! And God bless my Guardian Angel, whoever that may be, who maybe won’t think of my good news as all good? Probably been a rough year or, you know, 29 for him. Oh and about that itty bitty lie just then? Sorry. I know I’m 32. Ok fine. 36. You’re really tough on me tonight. Amen. And so on and so forth and such.”
And so I drifted off. But my brain did not. Seeing as how I was no longer giggling or responding appropriately it decided to romp on over to dreamland…
“Hey Mebahel! Pass the manna dude!” exclaimed Jabamiah. “You’re going to eat it all before the show even starts!”
Mebahel passed the bowl of manna over and looked around at all the other angels filing in. Pretty packed cloud for a Sunday night. “Did you watch the previews for tonight’s show Jab? I can not wait to see what she does this time,” he said while shaking his head. “One of the Archangels said Good Old Dude was even stopping by to comment on tonight’s episode. Do you think he’ll end up assigning a new Guardian Angel to this girl? I heard the current one has lost nearly every feather on his wings.”
Mebahel and Jabamiah both looked over at the Guardian Angel in question. He was sitting on his own little cloud, muttering incoherently. Every few minutes his Blackberry would indicate a new message with the sound of a horribly out of tune harp. With a shaky hand he’d pull the Blackberry from his robe, check the message and either cackle maniacally or shed a tear.
“Wow,” said Jabamiah. “He’s really losing it. And what’s with all the messages he keeps getting? Isn’t his girl supposed to be sleeping?”
“Good Old Dude only knows Jab. Oh hey… it’s starting!” exclaimed Mebahel excitedly. He readjusted his wings, stole the bowl of manna back from Jabamiah and settled in as the theme music piped up and the opening credits rolled across the sky.
“Good Evening! I’m Peter Jennings. And welcome to this week’s episode of Unsurvivor: Holy Rollers on Earth. Tonight we’ll be featuring case file number Eleventy-Seven, the girl who has provided us with endless entertainment over the years. Previous episodes featuring Wendy and the poor Guardian Angel assigned to her have included notable commentators such as Amelia Earhart…”
The sky adjusts to show a clip of Wendy rocketing down the road on a skateboard while holding a jump rope attached to the back of her brother Scott’s bike. “Faster!” she exclaims. “I want to fly!” Scott picks up speed and makes a sharp turn just before a jump they’d built earlier. Wendy hits the jump at top speed and soars into the air while wildly flapping her arms. Suddenly a harp sounds and we see Wendy’s Guardian Angel arrive on the scene in the nick of time to wrap his wings around her and land her safely in the grass. The young Wendy bursts into tears as she realizes that not only did she not fly but she’s scuffed her favorite Mary Janes. The Guardian Angel smiles adoringly while her brother berates her for not wearing tennis shoes like normal kids. Angel feathers are left at the scene.
“…fashion designer Oleg Cassini…”
A brief clip of Wendy at the Mall of America begins. Wendy’s Guardian Angel attempts to block her from entering as many stores as possible and numerous Angel feathers are left on the scene as Wendy wields her credit card and proceeds to purchase eleventy-seven shoes.
“…noted relationship expert and psychologist Sigmund Freud…”
The sky fills with Wendy in a series of failed relationship scenarios and a vast number of feathers fall from the Guardian Angel as he soaks up tears of despair.
“…but this week we have the most famous commentator of them all. You know him, you love him and you work for him! Let’s give a nice round of flapping for Good Old Dude!”
Wings flapped in appreciation as GOD himself materialized in front of the crowd. GOD smiled benevolently at all who had gathered, and after a look of loving pity towards Wendy’s Guardian Angel he addressed his faithful servants.
“You have all served me well. I would never give you more than you can handle. But as you know this latest version of Human has a few bugs to be worked out. Most notably, Free Will. This operating error has caused all of us a number of hardships. I have spent nearly a millennia trying to reprogram this problem. I mean dear Self it is annoying! And for the love of Me I want this corrected. Unfortunately, our competitor hacked into the patch we were working on and all humans have had Irony uploaded. We are still waiting to see the scope of this problem and may not know the full extent of the damage for a number of years. In the particular case of Eleventy-Seven the problem has been further compounded by recent events. As such I have offered a sabbatical to Wendy’s Guardian Angel. Any Angel wishing to temporarily take on the case can see me after the program. Peter?”
“Thanks, GOD. Now Angels before we show you what’s happened we want to make sure you’re fully up to speed on recent events. When last we left case file Eleventy-Seven she was suffering greatly from The Breakup with HWSNBN. In addition, she was dealing with The Unemployment. Now you all know that such duress can cause operating errors to act up. Our technicians were immediately called in but reported back that the Devil beat them to it. Irony had already been uploaded. What happens when Irony is compounded with free will? Stay tuned. We’ll be back right after these messages!”
The cloud erupted in speculative conversation as a commercial for Angel Soft premium bath tissue played in the background. A crowd gathered around Wendy’s Guardian Angel and watched as Mother Theresa tried to pry the Blackberry from his hand. He looked at the crowd with wild eyes and implored “Y’all know? This is more than a former man can take. I am just saying.” Reassurances were uttered and then everyone flew back to the main cloud as the ads came to an end.
“And now for this weeks dramatic and stunning conclusion,” said Peter.
The sky burst forth with glorious light and then darkened to center on the case file in question. There sat Wendy on her couch on Sunday night.
“Hey Jab do you see that floral couch? That’s an abomination of all things holy!” exclaimed Mebahel with a laugh.
Wendy’s phone rings and after a long pause and much fidgeting she answers it with a tentative expression.
“Hey Meb what’s with the sound? Why aren’t they letting us hear who she’s talking to?” asked Jabamiah. “I hate these suspense tactics.”
Wendy snaps her cell phone shut, stares at it for a moment and then hugs herself and jumps around happily. She grabs her dog’s front paws and dances around the room. She grabs her computer, opens her pink “Woman with the Unemployment” budget spreadsheet and renames it “Woman with a Job!” as tears of happiness and relief stream down her face.
“Awww. Look. She got a job. That’s great but what’s so ironic about that? Why would that make her Guardian Angel fall off his cloud?” asked Mebahel.
The scene cuts to the next morning and we see Wendy stomp into an office wearing business attire (with fabulous shoes of course). She turns a radiant smile to the man in the office.
“Hey isn’t that HWSNBN? Why is he in this scene?” asked Jabamiah as Angels all across the cloud began to gasp.
“Hiya BossWhoShallNotBeNamed!” exclaimed Wendy. “Hello!”
And the sky faded back to blue as everyone began to file out and Wendy’s Guardian Angel was carried off on a stretcher amid a flurry of feathers…
I woke up to the sound of the alarm, shook off the remnants of sleep and flew into the kitchen for coffee. I could not wait to get to HWSNBN’s office. This was so great! Who’d have EVER thought he’d offer me a job? Truly, angels must be watching over me.