It’s late Saturday night/very early Sunday morning. I’m having a date night that I’ve been looking forward to all day…man, do I know how to make myself happy! The psuedo studio apartment I occupy is filled with soft, warm light. The living room is aglow with a couple small candles, my salt lamp, two contemporary minimalist standing lamps. Across the room, christmas lights strung up along the wall illuminate my unintentionally hip space. Ikea-esque pillows are scattered on the fold-out futon bed; fleece tie blankets and crocheted afghans are folded over one another carelessly.

Screwdriver #2 and TLC…I’m singing the chorus of No Scrubs to my cat who really couldn’t care a single iota less.

There isn’t anything remarkable about tonight, yet it’s special. I took time for myself today, proper time unadulterated by expectation or stress. I left home early enough to not only drive the long way, but to stop along the water for a blessed half hour. I did my makeup beside the gray lake, still partially iced over and with a misting of fog. We’ve had low visibility all week. I want to tell you to forgive my skipping around, my unfinished thoughts and my poor grammar. That is default. I want to say nothing. If you’re reading, thank you! But I can’t constrict or over edit my late night writing because someone may be reading.

Tomorrow is the employee party at work. As far as I know it’s also my last real shift there! I’m thinking of her, of her being there with me and just of being with her. I’m thinking of the way her blonde hair frames her face and the easy droop of a cigarette between her fingers. I could stop myself but I don’t want to! I want to revel in the moment, the fleeting feeling of having a crush – of knowing possibility as a person. All I can think of is the way she pressed closer to me, innocently, sharing a futon early in the after-party morning drowsiness. Not mine, but belonging to a friend, the one who hosted girls’ night. I haven’t had a night quite like it before. We spoke about and toasted the Obamas. Walked to JJ’s feeling pretty toasty, danced to old R&B.

I’m going to end this journal bit before it gets sloppy. Goodnight, lovebugs.