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throw you against that wall! Let me sleep!”
    Madison sighed, kicking herself. Fine.
    *****
    She didn’t remember waking up exactly, just knowledge of pain and then the realization that there was too much light in the room. “Oh God…” she whimpered. Her head was about to explode. She rolled over. Ooh, that’s worse. Don’t move. But she could tell she was about to get no choice in the matter. She rolled to the edge of the bed and her frantic fumbling hand located the small trashcan nearby. Just in time. The whiskey and fast food tacos from last night did a curtain call.
    I will never, ever, drink again.
    She got up and did a careful ballet across the floor, trying to find a clear path to the bathroom. Reaching the bathroom, she hung onto the doorframe and hugged the molding to her cheek. She remembered something about Phil calling last night. I think I’m supposed to be a fairy godmother today. She swallowed some aspirin with a little water, found her phone, and read all the gig details about when and where the children’s birthday party would be. Wasn’t there something else today? She held her head. My face hurts. I wish it would fall off.
    She peeled off her clothes and for the next twenty minutes her shower gave her the courage to carry on. The hot water soothed her sore muscles. She hurt in places she didn’t know could hurt. Couldn’t blame the hangover for that, she knew. The soreness was from her antics with the wrestlers. I’m lucky I didn’t break my head.
    Shampoo and conditioner, the best things ever invented. The warm lathered water rinsed out of her hair and ran down her body into the drain, taking some of the pain with it. The scent of the conditioner made her feel feminine again. I can do this. I can fix my life, she thought, as she shaved her legs. I’ll find a better job, I’ll fix my apartment, I’ll even fix my relationship with Mom. Grandpa will be proud.
    She exfoliated her face with a free sample scrub she had picked up at the store. No more moping! No more feeling sorry for myself! No more bullshit, Madison. You deserve better, and you can do better.
    She dried her hair and dressed in her fairy godmother costume. She looked like a queen out of King Arthur’s court in pastel blue, pink, and gold brocades. The long pink sleeves were tight till they reached the wrist, where they hung open and draped downward in silky pink and made poetic movements whenever she moved her arms. Her big green eyes were a bit bloodshot so she put in some soothing eye drops. Her skill with makeup had grown over the years to that of a professional. She looked divine. The finishing touch, a square yard of pastel blue silk chiffon, edged with gold thread, draped over her head with two inches of it falling down her forehead like bangs. After pinning it in place, she used a circular tiara to anchor it down on her head, the length of the chiffon going down her back over her dark hair.
    She picked up her purse, car keys, cell phone, and put them all in her big black tote bag. Then she added her magic wand—eleven inches of silver with a one-inch rhinestone star at the tip to total twelve inches of make believe magic. Plus, a small set of gossamer wings that she could attach to her back before walking in to the princess birthday party since she couldn’t drive while wearing wings, and a set of watercolor face paints, long skinny balloons for making balloon animals, and a small balloon pump.
    She looked at the time. Perfect. She had enough leisure time to go buy a coffee, head out to Grandpa’s place for a visit, then on to the birthday party gig. She knew he would get a kick out of her fairy godmother costume. She’d drop off his drill and ask him point blank what it was he was not telling her. What was he worried about? I’m a big girl and can handle myself. After making that clear to him, she’d leave for the party. She could still feel her hangover around the edges, but her spirits were considerably lifted.