8 a.m.

I’m getting dolled up for the Kentucky Derby, and I feel ridiculously anxious about it, as though I will later be called to  trot around the track. As I try to apply eyeliner, I  notice my hemifacial spasm is back. In spades.

Oh YEAH! I already feel self-conscious because I have a hat with enough roses to make presidents look around for a bill to sign, and now my face scrunches at irregular intervals.

All day long I will sneer like Elvis. My lip curling in just that Elvis way, a way I cannot do without the help of a misbehaving facial nerve.

I do not have a seat. I am going by myself. I am not sure if the people I have arranged to talk to will be willing to talk to me. I don’t know where to park. I

It’s ridiculous! Oh, someone get me a drink.

Then I can sneer and slur.