So, did I enjoy Thursday night’s dinner date with Tall Physics Man? Yes, thanks, I did.
We talked easily, and he kindly offered me a lift home as it was raining so hard. In fact, he seemed genuinely concerned lest I think his offer concealed some dastardly axe-murderer style plan.
‘course , he did think The Odyssey was written by an American (and not the balding, paunchy father of three from Springfield, either). But I shouldn’t be such an intellectual snob, yes? Okay.
However, before you get excited for me, there is a real problem. I just don’t know how to write about it. Suffice to say I cried myself to sleep last night for the first time in about three years, I felt so utterly hopeless.
Not being able to have what one wants is hard. Not knowing what one wants is worse.