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Another tooth, rescued. Of course, I've been cross-eyed for most of the day, succumbing to a lie-down around eight PM, which I never do... unless lit up like a Christmas tree, or confused out of my cranium. Let's say it was a case of both, running together like a head-on train wreck. Earlier, I thought I'd try make an effort to go on to work, after all... though my heart of hearts was steering me to Ellie's. The bastard. I'd emailed her after last night's entry, and mentioned that I'd like to... but got no reply. And slagged off the afternoon with some constructive time-wasting... and the fatal glass of beer that conspired with the prior head-numbing. And who should call, and who should answer the phone? Yep... train wreck. My, how awkward. The first thing she asked was, "Where are you?" I assume I was expected. The best thing about having a fucked up life is knowing when to admit it. Now, any other woman I've known would have barraged me with a million irate questions. Not so, Miss Jane... and I'm not so sure this is a good thing. It would have been better, after the smoke cleared, to have at least gotten below the surface to the bedrock of our ennui. But no... business as usual. Another placid evening of few words and sameness. What price comfort? Ellie and I have never crossed over the line of "friends." Oh, we flirt and talk trash, but nothing overt has pushed the envelope up to now. We're roommates (though I seldom see her at home). But this... this speaks of things other than mind-numbing. Maybe a few loosened teeth. |
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