(no subject)

Oct 26, 2008 04:16

My apron was stolen from work tonight. I think somebody thought there'd be a fat wad of cash inside (I had transferred my appreciable earnings to my pocket wallet by that point). What a nightmare to be sitting there, drowning in my Scotch Ale, and realizing that there was no way for me to start up my car-- no less open the doors to my house. POOR GEORGIA.

I called Florence from work, and to my amazement she answered. A bartender drove me to her house (post 3am at this point) where I picked up her copies of my keys... After she closed the door, Steve told me that Kim (my faithful, good-karma'd General Manager at Trinity) called: the cabby had stopped at Trinity and dropped off my bundle. Everything was in tact. We went back to the Brewhouse.

I'm sitting here in my living room, in the house I bought, listening to Joni Mitchell, and thinking about the very alone way I'm in. It's time for me to get a mate, but Providence offers nothing in the way I'd like one. I want him tall, and happy enough, and with a sense of humor that's off-kilter. Just give me those things!

The next thing I need to acquire is a worthwhile man. It took me almost two years to get a home. Will I be 26 when I can finally snag Mister Right?
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