Today's Daily Candy: Comcastalicious!

Your alarm didn't go off. You open your eyes at 7:35 a.m., first remembering that last glass of wine last night, then remembering that tall Englishman's smile, and then remembering you have a meeting at 8:15.

Your hair pulled back, you dash out the door and into a taxi before realizing you put a silver Prada flat on one foot and patent Fendi flat on the other.

You're worth more than that. You deserve better.

How do we know? Because we've so been there.

Take charge, girl! Call in sick and soak your feet in mineral salts mined by the trolls in a remote corner of Iceland. Visit the West Village spa that S.J.P. and Gwyneth have on speed dial. Eat a pomegranate from Pakistan after your personal pilates session.

Once you're fully cleansed, call that Englishman and tell him you're for sale. If he scoffs at your price, tell him you're really worth more.

$125 million, to be exact, and tell him that's what Comcast thinks you're worth.

Darling, what's $125 million between friends? It might be ten times your cash flow, but a New York girl knows her wit and style more than make up for that wee little premium.

After all, remember how you charmed Bob Pittman into ponying up $3.5 million five years ago? Everyone thought he was seduced into an illicit affair, but now he's the sexiest bachelor in town.

So dab a bit more of that Sisley Phyto-Proteine mascara on those luscious lashes of yours and move on. Repeat the drill as necessary.

Perseverance pays. There's a sucker out there for everyone.