My Geek # is 8 1/2

Yesterday was the greatest day of my life. Okay, perhaps that's hyperbole. But an amazing thing did happen.

At 4:30 pm, just as I was about to claw my face out of frustrated boredom (or bored frustration), Poet Co-worker came to my cubicle.
"It's time."
I blinked. I thought, that's a strange way to tell me that Educating Esme arrived for our dinner date. So I asked, "Time for what?"
"Your massage!"

I had completely forgotten that the regional manager got us all 30-minute chair massages and I signed up for a slot on Monday. Hallelujah, amen. It was so so wonderful and an amazing way to end the day. I want a chair massage everyday at 4:30.

Afterwards I told Education Esme that I was feeling foggy because I totally got into a nice sub space and when he was done it was almost like 'waking up' after a flogging. She was disbelieving. I forget not everyone in my life is kinky. I mean, she certainly isn't suprised or weird about my bdsm life, but she has no interest of her own.

Last night I had fun at "geek night" at T's, though it was hard to tell why it was different from any other T's event.

My weekend plans keep getting tossed around. I probably shouldn't even be having weekend plans. But even if I'm a grad student, a boy's still gotta have some fun.

Wild horses couldn't drag me away.

The following songs have been playing on repeat in my head today: Help Me – Joni Mitchell (plus the Mandy Moore version); Wild Horses – Rolling Stones (except not their version, some other one with a female singer); They Don’t Know – Tracey Ullmann; Reflections – Atmosphere

They’re colliding and repeating and it’s a crazy collage, and if you were in my brain right now, this is what you’d hear:

When I get that crazy feeling, I know I'm in trouble again. And I don't listen to the guys who say that you're bad for me and I should turn you away. Let’s do some living after we die. Look at your face, when all I could see was myself looking back at me. Reflection, and all I could do was think about sleeping next to you. And you love your loving, but not like you love your freedom. You look like you were built for me, you talk like you want to steal my drink, you kiss like you already came. And why should I be lonely every night when I could be with you, oh yes you make it right?


Lather. Rinse. Repeat for six hours.