2005-08-14 - 6:58 a.m.
A man called our house today and when I answered said, "Um, I'm interested in meeting a lady..."
I resisted the urge to say something like "Me too, buddy," and just said, "I think you have the wrong number," to which he replied "Oh, I think I do too..."
This was at least more entertaining than the collection agency which kept calling looking for the guy who used to live here, which was a little scary.
I seem to be practicing compulsive retail therapy at the moment, which is never good. There is a limit to how many pairs of shoes I need, particularly when I'm buying shoes which are not necessarily the kind of thing I'm going to be wearing to work regularly. The last two weeks have for some reason been loathesome - there's no good reason why, but everything has felt unbearable. I'm trying to get back to the gym regularly again, which I got out of the habit of doing over the past two months with travelling and everything, and hopefully with that and with the weather cooling down I'll start sleeping better, which I hope will make me feel less woeful and tantrummy.
I think I may start lying and telling people I was raised Catholic. That at least might make the routine level of background guilt and anxiety I carry seem like it has some reasonable explanation. Though I'm not sure that 'reasonable' is exactly the right word there.
