Tuesday
I say my prayers and rush to the shower. It's freezing outside. Really cold, so I wear a Giuliana Teso fur coat. I'm rushing because I don't want to be late. I make sure I arrive every morning early, at five to eight.
When I get out of the car, my bodyguard grabs my bag and just hands it to someone. It turns out it was a policeman. I'm not treating the police like they are my valet—like the papers will say later—it's just that I'm used to gentlemen. Obviously I'm wrong.
I recognize one of the other Sanitation officers because he does security at night at Nobu. It's really nice to see a familiar face. Today our assignment is to clean the walls of a corridor, which are very dirty. There are seven of us cleaning, including a lady from Poland. She wants the right products and she won't let up. She's relentless and very funny about it. She's on her hands and knees, and Mr. Barry says, "Would you get off your hands and knees, please?"
We both decide we are going to clean our lunchroom. We really scrub it down. We're both like, "We want to make sure we eat in a clean environment."
I decide we should order lunch from Mr. Broadway Kosher, this deli I love. None of them have had kosher before, and they love it. After lunch, we finish the hallway. I'm very proud of it because it's so clean. By 3:30, we're done and I head up to this place in the Bronx, the Point, and read to schoolchildren. I read from Dr. Seuss, which is something I grew up with. But I'm not sure these kids understand some of the words, so I just put it in simple language. It's great and so much fun. Finally, I go home and everything just kind of hits me. I'm wiped out. I crash.
Wednesday
I decide to wear black. It's getting crazy. I'm getting all these calls from designers and stylists asking me to wear their clothes. Apparently, people on the Internet are rating my outfits. With everything happening in the world—in Iraq, in Africa—this is what they focus on? In the car, my bodyguard looks at me and says, "I know you don't like seeing the newspapers, but you need to look at this." And it's that policeman carrying my bag. I feel so bad. I didn't mean to embarrass him. When I arrive, I go straight to him and say, "I'm so sorry." And he looks at me and goes, "It was my pleasure."
I change in the locker room, and one of the ladies who works the night shift is complaining to me about how someone left the toilet in a not-very-nice way. I was brought up to be very, very clean and hygienic, so I'm like, "How could somebody do that?"
