It is 10 am, it is a new day, it is not raining, it is a good day to be listening to Bittersweet Symphony. I do not know the point where this passed from "enjoyment" to "obsession," but I am prepared to ride it out.
"LEO: Thursday, March 21
A mild case of itchy feet and/or restlessness is a good thing. You are being invited to step out of your well-appointed rut, a.k.a. ordained routine, and range as far afield as you dare. And, knowing the courage quotient of the king of the beasts, this is bound to be pretty distant."
The second in as many days and as many sources to make mention of the fact that I need to shake things up. Cause a ruckus. Do something out-of-the-ordinary. Coincidence, perhaps -- but I shall take the apparent advice of the cosmos. Scheduled for tonight: a shindig in Long Island. While the prospect of Long Island is a little off-putting, the idea of a lesbian party is tempting. I have been to neither in a very long time, and can think of no better way to break routine.
That last statement is not quite true. One better way in which I would like to break out of my rut springs immediately to mind -- to be blunt, my hormones are reaching critical mass. If I do not find someone to have some sex with soon, I may combust or explode or suffer some equally unpleasant consequence. It has gotten to the point where guys I would not have looked twice at a few months ago have suddenly developed all the allure of Ryan Phillipe (and that is high praise indeed). I am concerned that I might act on these lowered expectations and do something (or someone) I regret. Gigolo Joe, where are you when I need you?
Perhaps one of the lesbians will bring a cute boy with her for me to enjoy. Cross your fingers for me.
(Side note: I do not think that Port Anal is an acceptable abbreviation of Portfolio Analysis. Nor is AssMan for Asset Management.)