I was so exhausted today that I started hallucinating, which was both comical and terrifying. I am beyond relieved that I leave for vacation in two days. I need a break from my life.

But at least the one day standing in the way of my vacation is Monday, the day of band practice and Thai food. This followed by the weekly ritual of R and I going to our favorite North Beach bar to see our favorite local rockabilly band, whereupon the drummer and I will shamelessly flirt between all three of his sets and nothing will ever come of it because he is old and still full of ardor, and I am young and jaded. And still, week after week, R convinces himself that I don’t mean what I say when I proclaim my distaste for conventional coupledom, as well as my inability to subsume my desires for the good of another. He continues to insist that one day I will “come around” and stop being such a cynical romantic. Oh, dear R, don’t hold your breath.