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"  I was still in my pajamas when my buzzer rang around two in the afternoon today. I&amp;#039;d called in sick to work because I just couldn&amp;#039;t face Brad. I have a ton of sick time that I&amp;#039;ve never used because (despite my steady diet of ice cream and wine) I don&amp;#039;t get sick very often. Now that I&amp;#039;ve said that, I&amp;#039;ll probably wake up tomorrow with the plague. &amp;quot;Who is it?&amp;quot; I said into the intercom. &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s me, poodle,&amp;quot; I heard Meg say. &amp;quot;I brought you chicken soup.&amp;quot; I smiled and buzzed her in. When I opened the door, she handed me a pint of chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream. &amp;quot;Chicken soup for the depressed soul,&amp;quot; she announced. &amp;quot;Now, tell me what happened Friday that was so awful that you called in sick and made Brad look like he&amp;#039;d been on a two-day bender.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;He did?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Yes. Dark circles, distracted, the faint whiff of stale beer from the night before. Every time someone opened the door to the newsroom, he looked up all anxious-like and then his face would fall. Probably because it wasn&amp;#039;t you.&amp;quot; Oh man. &amp;quot;So what&amp;#039;s the plan?&amp;quot; she asked, getting two bowls out of my cabinet. &amp;quot;You can&amp;#039;t stay home forever.&amp;quot; I hadn&amp;#039;t really thought about what to do after today. I guess tomorrow I go to work, try to get through it, and then talk to Brad when we&amp;#039;re both ready. &amp;quot;So what&amp;#039;s up with Adam?&amp;quot; I asked, desperately wanting to lose myself in someone else&amp;#039;s drama for awhile. &amp;quot;Oh, I told him I can&amp;#039;t see him anymore,&amp;quot; she said. &amp;quot;I had a realization.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Oh?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Yeah, I&amp;#039;ve been something of a self-destructive mess since Al asked me for a divorce.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Ya think?&amp;quot; I said, smiling.  She smiled back. &amp;quot;Yeah, I pulled a Britney Spears thing there. But here&amp;#039;s the thing. I&amp;#039;m still hoping that Al will come around. And sleeping with another co-worker isn&amp;#039;t really going to help my cause. Plus, I mean\u2026 Adam? Is a freak. A very, very hot freak, but a freak nonetheless.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;And if Al doesn&amp;#039;t come around?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Well, there are healthier ways to deal with that than drinking my face off and hooking up with weird dudes.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m really proud of you,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;If we rub elbows, will some of that rub off on me?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Probably not, but I can give you the number of my therapist.&amp;quot; Hm. I&amp;#039;ve thought before about doing the therapy thing. When Mike and I first broke up, I almost did. I think I chickened out. I don&amp;#039;t know. Confronting your demons is a scary thought, you know? Maybe it&amp;#039;s time, though. I&amp;#039;ll add that to the &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ll think about it&amp;quot; list, along with moving to L.A. and taking a hip-hop dance class. Meg and I had a lovely, chill evening watching E!, ordering Chinese food and playing Scrabble. You know, having her as a friend makes me not miss Sarah in a way that having Jane and Jenna around doesn&amp;#039;t. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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