Which ’tis nobler?
To go out or not to go out – is rarely a question in Los Angeles. Especially if your friends are already at the bar. A bar you have to drive past on your way home from dinner, anyway.
Should I stop? I’m kind of tired. But I’m always tired. And I haven’t been out amongst the gay boiz for a week. Not since I met Saul.
Saul – MMM…
Tired is manageable. Tired is nothing. What’s tired?
I might be seeing him tomorrow night, though. Carla’s such a wing(wo)man. Maybe I should save my energy.
But I could meet someone else. I could meet someone else tonight and dance with Saul tomorrow. Hmm…There’s Gym bar. I wonder who’s -
“EYES ON THE ROAD, SELF!”
Yikes, JJ. Be careful. You’re on Santa Monica Boulevard. Pedestrians cross whenever they feel like it.
“Idiots,” I shook my head, giving voice to my inner monologue once more.
I know it’s legal, but that doesn’t mean it’s SMART. Personally…
Continuing the discussion – silently and with myself – I weighed the merits of remaining poor and retaining control of my bodily functions over being awarded a million dollar settlement for the pain and suffering endured from a 35 miles per hour Ford to fairy collision.
I guess I’m going home, I thought as the internal debate subsided a few blocks later.
It wasn’t exhaustion or a fixation on Saul, though, that led me there. Caffeine and a supremely casual approach to dating cure and prevent both issues, respectively. Sickness, however, is not so easily remedied. Or overlooked.
A slightly stuffy and somewhat runny nose beginning to whistle with early signs of a sinus infection – not sexy.
I am only teetering on the brink of said symptom. I could have rallied in the hope of scoring a number or a nibble from some bar hopping buck. Instead, I’m home in bed.
Alone tonight, in the hope that I’ll be swallowing something more than Mucinex tomorrow.
