Trixie Is Full of Herself Today

What kind of crazy whimsicality is this? I mouth to Trixie, my muse. She is wearing a red tutu, and has on gray striped headphones. Dancing to some kind of bee bop music I dare not listen to myself. It will be way too sexy for my ears. Trixie’s hair is pink today with silver sparkles, and she has a blue streak. Her third combination hair color of the week. Trixie is gloriously full of herself, and she thrives on overkill. Yesterday her tresses were rainbow with a splash of orange. She was wearing a red felt tarboosh with a tassel at breakfast. An improvement over the camoflauge pith helmet from Friday. Still, unusual for her. Her pink yoga mat is out. She is exercising now. I look on her light up chart. She will be doing fifty sit-ups and six-hundred jumping jacks. Guess which one is her favorite? I try to squelch her a bit, because I need her insight today. But she waves me away and laughs at my human silliness. “Energy begets energy,” she reminds me. I patter into the kitchen to fix myself a caramel latte with whipped cream. I am warming up a couple of chocolate chip cookies when Trixie starts pulling at my brain. “I thought you would need at least twenty-five minutes,” I argue. Her hands are on her hips and she is glaring at me now. “Now or never,” she says. So the cookies have to wait.