three hundred and sixty four nights out of the year i do dick. then suddenly last night became a hot-bed of potential stuff to do.

the artguy sort of invited me to an opening at the art gallery that’s in the same building as my writing class.

darlingjason was in town.

sister #3 was dialated and in the emergency room, on the verge of birth (though a month early).

the TTHM called, which always have potential to be something more than an average phonecall.

and, of course, there was class where there’s always the potential that beautiful robert will finally realize how witty and wonderful i am and will be so overcome with emotion that he’ll just have to proclaim his affection right there in front of the calls.

and you know what happened?

nothing.

i opted out of the art opening, because i needed to find out how sister #3 was, and once i discovered she was ok, i decided to try to hook up with darlingjason, but no dice.

so i ended up at home, sitting in my bed, and eating nutter butters alone.

hrmph.