That Uncomfortable Feeling


When a stranger walks into your house.

I was like what the fuck?

Is there actually someone coming into my room?

Ah.

The housemate has a guest.

Apparently a nosey guest.

Not exactly how I wanted to find out.

None the less, pretty much the cap on a long strange day.

I got up early to go to work early to let in the housekeeper, the family is away, but there was still plenty on the list for me to do.

Granted.

It’s a lot easier to get shit done when the family is away.

It’s just hella odd.

I realized as I was changing the bedding in the boys rooms, that I have never done house work for a family when they weren’t there.

Either they were there and I was nannying.

Or they were not there, as in vacationing or out of town and I was not there.

It’s a different dynamic and sometimes I find myself taking it for granted and sometimes, well, it’s just fucking weird.

Today it felt weird.

Then again.

Everything feels a little helter skelter right now.

There is a lot happening.

Mostly in my brain.

My brain is a hotbed of activity right now, it won’t turn off.

I also had odd pockets of time today, that did not help, then again, I suppose they did not hinder either.

I found myself having coffee “on the clock” at Ritual while the laundry was working there was not really anything for me to do until it was finished, so I grabbed a coffee at the cafe and worked on my spending plan for August.

Meaning.

I worked on not being in financial insecurity.

I mean.

There’s fear.

There’s always fear.

And I always walk through it.

Sometimes gracefully, sometimes haltingly and stumbling along like a fucking idiot.

But.

I have never been dropped.

And I won’t now.

And I have the money to do that thing in the desert, even though it’s cost a lot more than I have ever spent on it.

I keep telling myself.

I get to go.

I get to go.

I get to go.

And I get to go a little early so I will actually have four and a half days on playa.

Things are falling together as well.

They are.

I have my tent, my camp chair, I got my old quilt from a girlfriend who had it for a while and whom I haven’t seen in so long, it’s rather stupid.

I have my tent.

I am going to give it a shot at getting set up either tomorrow or Wednesday.

Maybe Thursday.

Oh.

Fuck.

I’m nattering on.

I’m nervous about a lunch date I have tomorrow.

I literally had the thought today that I don’t have the right shoes.

Who is this person?

Fuck.

This guy has seen me around.

For a long time.

Like eleven and a half fucking years, the man knows I wear Converse.

Ack.

My brain, on fire.

Put it out.

I don’t have the right clothes either, fyi, that’s already been decided.

Thanks for sharing brain, really.

I have no idea where we’re going for lunch, but I live in the Outer Sunset, it’s not like we going to some fine dining gig on a Tuesday at noon.

Not that I think we’re going to Mickey D’s either.

I have been on a few dates with said gentleman, a few years ago, before I moved to Paris, and the odds are actually not that unusual that he would take me to a nice place.

He’s got good taste.

Chez Spencer before it burned down.

Flour and Water.

Which he was a little abashed to bring me to when he found out I don’t eat flour (or sugar).

I joked it wasn’t like he took me to Vodka and Cocaine.

Heh.

Oh.

Yes.

Also, La Ciccia, which was fantastic.

Plum in Oakland.

Anyway.

So it may be a fancier place, but it doesn’t matter.

I mean.

My brain will try to make it like it does matter.

But really.

All I’m thinking about is.

What will go with the cute sandals I got in New Orleans?

And.

Will he kiss me?

Or is this just a let’s catch up and see how the other person is doing?

But um, Facecrack says he’s single and I’m single and we’ve kissed before and.

Jesus fuck.

I am blushing.

That can stop.

I’ll probably get up and go to yoga so I can calm the fuck down.

Expectations lead to resentment.

I have no expectations.

Yes, some nerves, but really, that’s just that good old mind fuck that says I’m not enough and don’t have the right hair, I mean, um, it’s pink, heh, or the right shoes, I do love my Converse, or the right clothes, I have scads of cute dresses, I just have this idiotic idea that I have to look a certain way for a certain type of guy.

I have too many tattoos.

Actually I have just enough.

Well.

I could use another, who am I fooling?

Really in the end, there is nothing wrong.

I’m excited.

I want to look pretty.

And it will be good to catch up.

I am curious to see what his intentions are though.

I won’t lie.

But regardless, I can comport myself with some decorum.

Unless I’m laughing, then all decorum bets off.

Or.

Well.

I’m just not going to pursue that line of thought.

All the other dates I thought might coalesce this week have not confirmed.

I’m going where the water is warm.

Or.

At least interested.

Or.

Just letting me know there’s a date.

The date got confirmed.

That’s a start.

I’m going to have fun.

I am going to dress how I like to dress.

For me.

Wear my hair the way I like it.

Sing my song of myself.

It’s a good song.

Sexy like.

I get to go on a date.

Fun.

This is fun!

Duh.

I get to do this.

Nerves or not.

I’ll look cute and have an adventure.

Promise to tell  you all about it.

Well.

Maybe.

Heh.

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