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Happy Birthday Mike. I think it's been 11 years we've known each other. No offense, it's also one of my least favorite days of the year. [It's someone else's birthday, isn't it?--ed.] Yes. And she's the big gaping hole in me right now. For no good reason. [What is it with you and professor's daughters, anyway?--ed.] I have no idea. I can't even say I know her that well. We seem to run into each other every few years. She's still single, for no good reason. [Besides the Lord's will, you pagan.--ed.] Yeah, that. [Why don't you call her, and wish her a happy birthday?--ed.] Because it would seem really weird and stalkerish, like all the other things I've done. Because I'm a bum who's about to torpedo his only viable career path in what may be a fruitless search for Truth. Because I'm not good enough for her. Because I'm not the kind of man who can credibly pretend it just a "friendly birthday call." Because I'm in love with a ghost, probably, not her. Because I'm scared. Someone punch me in the face. Ah, I have a solution.

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Timothy R. Butler said…
What's the solution... I need to know. :-)

Don't torpedo yet. We need to have lunch and solve your "river crossing problems." See, you make me feel good. I'm a TR in comparison to you. *cough*
7:41 PM
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