I always know that I've been going out too much when I'm not disappointed that my plans have fallen through for an evening. I had intended to be out with a stranger, but in with myself sounds so much better.
We took apart Mike's laptop at the office today, and by we I mean Mike. He knows better than to let me near delicate electronics with a screwdriver. I am always awed by the insides of computers--they always look impossible to me. Like science fiction.
I have recently come into possession of the complete poems of e e cummings, because people out there still believe in encouraging my consuming love of language, regardless of how ridiculous it tends to make me look. And so I have a sudden free evening to cover myself in thousands of words, and to remind myself of things that are delicate and beautiful. This will be nice, because I have been feeling a little tarnished lately, a little too far away from the better versions of myself. But like he says himself, "Miracles are to come. With you I leave a remembrance of miracles: they are by somebody who can love and who shall be continually reborn, a human being."
I hope to see lots of you tomorrow evening.
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