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Purgatory - Sunday, Feb. 10, 2019
Wednesday, Oct. 23, 2002 @ 7:28 pm
The Zen of Ficoll
It's days like this that I like working alone on a huge-ass experiment. It's not the weather - the cycle in was amazingly fresh and cold.. some trees brilliant red, others yellow... leaves piled high on the sidewalks and drifting around the intersections... so cold that the exhaust from cars lingers behind them, leaving swirling clouds to ride through. It's definitely not the weather.
It's something else. It's the swing back from the high of confidence.
I went to bed at 9 last night. And the night before. I could be fighting a virus... but... I really don't think so. It's more like a creeping feeling that the sea has been cached of the good fish.
"Where are all the normal single guys?" Mom asks.
You're asking ME that, Mom? This is after I described my two failed attempts at dating:
Date #1: We've been sitting, talking over coffee, for about 15 minutes. He says, "Soo.. my place is just down the road. You should come over." Ummm yeah. "I think I should get home."
Date #2: On the phone, arranging exact details on where to go: "Can you be my girlfriend?" "Huh? I, like, hardly know you." Then he goes on to ask if I can pick him up, seeing as he smashed his car and cannot figure out the bus system. I tell him to figure it out. He says he can't. "Soo how about, since you're my girlfriend and all, you come pick me up?" "How about not."
Miss S and I went clubbing that night.
So, Mom, what the hell can I do to find normal guys?
"You know, honey, I thought that when I was your age too. I think that you have to believe that it just isn't your time to meet Someone. You have things to do, places to go, stuff to learn, before you meet Someone that fits into your lifestyle."