This time, it wasn't a chill that ran down my spine. This time, it was a vision.

Just a flash of an inkling of a hint of a face. Eyes. A smile. Sparkles.

"Hi," she said.

"Hi," I said.

"Sorry I'm late," she said.

"Don't worry about it," I answered. "I wasn't even sure you'd be here tonight."

"I wanted to be here earlier," she explained, "but there were all these girls in my way."

I'd been expecting this.

"Those are just whores," I said. "You can go right by them."

"They looked mean," she said.

"It's all show," I explained. "They know who you are. What you mean to me. They'll get out of your way. And if they don't you can just go right through them. They're no match for you."

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I'm positive," I answered. "They are nothing compared to you."

"Okay." She seemed relieved. "Did you miss me?"

"Only when I breathed," I responded.

She smiled.

I won again.

I dreamed that I was swimming upstream somewhere, and it was hard, and to keep myself focused I was singing a song to myself.

It was a fucking awesome song. Kind of hard rock with ballady parts thrown in, or maybe it was a ballad with hard rocky parts thrown in. Whatever. It was awesome.

Also, I looked up ahead of me to see where all the water was coming from, and some whore had opened the valve on a dam. And she was laughing her ass off. What a whore.

Seeing the future is easy when you've seen it all before. And for years and years, this particular scenario is pretty much all I saw. All I lived.

It'll be fun. It'll be relaxing. It'll let me feel more like myself. Instead of like this cowering pussy I've been feeling like lately. I'll be able to coast through this. If I were an actor, then I'd say that this is the role I was born to play.

I can see exactly how the next six months are going to play out. I don't need a crystal ball, or tarot cards, or fucking tea leaves. I'm no withered old hag, I'm just a guy with a pretty good memory. So I know what's going to happen, because it's already happened so many times before.

I'm really looking forward to it.

Even though it might not seem like I'm enjoying myself, don't be fooled. Even though I'll start throwing words like slut and whore around, even though it'll seem like I'm pretty much miserable at times, even though you might feel this motherly urge to snap me out of it and to try to make me feel better - don't bother.

I'll be fine.

I'll be having fun.

I'll be myself again.

Today is moving day at work.

They're taking my entire (IT) department and moving us downtown, and today is my team's turn.

I've been looking forward to the move, for various reasons, not the least of which is that I'll be closer to MixedSignalGirl. So we could do lunch or whatever if we ever get our collective shit together.

I'm not exactly holding my breath though.

Anyway, I'm still sitting at home right now. No sense rushing in to work at the crack of 8:00 when none of my stuff has been moved to the new building yet. So I've been working on some security documentation. It's just incredibly fun stuff. Not.

Remember a while back when I wrote that my wants were wandering aimlessly because my needs had been met? The problem with that is that I knew my wants would fixate on the first thing they bumped in to. Yeah, well that's happened now. It kinda sucks, but I'm used to it.

I'm not much of a poetry person, but I really love this snippet from Rupert Brooke.

When two mouths, thirsty each for each, find slaking,

I need a really good slaking.

A nice little daydream. That's all it is.

No way I'd ever actually do anything to maybe help bring it to fruition.

Because, that would be hard. And stuff. And risky. And stuff.

I dream of starting over. Leaving all of this (*wide sweeping gesture*) behind and just going to wherever my heart leads me.

Funny how I used the word wherever. Almost sounds random, doesn't it?

Well random happened a long time ago. One thousand one hundred and forty-eight days ago. Random is over. Done. Kaput. Finished. Obsolete. History. You get the idea.

So anyway, I dream of going there and then the dream gets pretty fuzzy.

It's still a nice little daydream though.

That's the subject of some SPAM I got today.

Now I don't work in sales, but I really don't think insulting a potential customer from the get-go is the best approach.

Plus, I'm neither of those things.

The minutes take eternities to pass, but somehow the years rush by.

Two years have passed in the blink of a teary eye.

I never thought it would happen. I fought for so long, I convinced myself that I was winning. I faked a smile for so long, I convinced myself that I was happy. I fell for so long, I convinced myself that I was flying.

I never thought it would happen. I never thought it could happen.

But it did.

Splat!

My world still reverberates from the force of that impact.

I don't want to say any more.

I've already said too much, yet I could never never never say enough.

Those two words would lead to those three words would lead to a billion more words, and still it would not be enough.

8:55
It's pretty dead here. There are about 10 strangers, including a bunch of beatniks in the living room. Some dipshit is in my favorite seat at the bar, so I'm sitting at the island. My beer: A bottle of Avery The Reverend. That's right, a rematch from last night.

9:00
There are strangers working tonight. The regulars are all at some wedding.

9:02
All three of those beatnik girls are hot.

9:05
CuteBartender just stopped and talked to me some. She's cute as a bug. Oh yeah, CuteBartender is working tonight, so it's not all strangers.

9:12
I think the two blonde beatnik girls are twins. Mmmmmm, hot twins.

9:18
These idiots behind me are talking about how the Rich O's in Nashville is better because you can get burgers there. News Flash: There's only one Rich O's, and you're sitting in it. You dumbasses.

9:19
Burgers would be cool though.

9:21
That brunette beatnik girl is smoldering hot. She looks like HatGirl, except slutty.

9:25
Reverend, your name tries to mask your true nature, but I am not fooled. Tonight, I am ready. Tonight, you will be defeated.

9:27
I wonder what SassyGirl is doing right now. (checking watch, calculating time difference) Probably sleeping. She wouldn't think any of these beatnik girls are hot. She never liked any of the girls I liked.

9:28
I miss SassyGirl.

9:37
These temporary bartenders have an annoying habit of looking at me all the time. I am not, as I've already stated, a piece of meat.

9:39
This dingbat behind me just asked me why the red room is called the red room. I told her that it might have something to do with the wall that's painted red, but that my money was on the 11,000 pieces of Communist memorabilia on the walls.

9:40
Piss time.

9:42
The ghost is here.

9:55
The ghost is leaving.

10:00
There a surprise party in the red room now. I'm picking up my shit and moving to the bar.

10:03
The beatniks are leaving.

10:06
Who the fuck was that?

10:07
There's a chick with a laptop, not LaptopGirl, pretty much the opposite of LaptopGirl in fact, and her laptop's screen is way too bright. It's filling the room with an eerie glow. It looks like aliens are invading.

10:15
ArtistGuy just came in. He's fucking plastered. Or exhausted. I'm betting on plastered.

10:20
CuteBartender won't take that bet.

10:21
And The Reverend (180) is down! Dave wins! Dave wins!

10:22
I order a Weihenstephaner Hefeweissbier (1547).

10:40
I've been talking to the dipshit. He's pretty cool. He was going to buy a DaveFest shirt but I'm out of his size.

10:45
They're perfect, I bet. Firm and perky and just the right size.

10:47
Piss time.

11:00

11:15
I order a Schlenkerla Rauchbier Weizen (52).

11:27
The wedding party has arrived.