Lunchtime conversation

My co-Victorianist friend M., to me: "You seem to be really good at getting guys to say mean things to you."

Me: "Actually, it's only single guys who say mean things to me. Married dudes say nice things to me all the time."

(Ironically, I ran into K. in the cafeteria on my way out.)

A case in point of the above: someone who is not The Poet got drunk on Saturday night and told me he loved me before I got on the D train. It was actually kind of sweet, in a certain way that has a lot to do with it not having to mean anything.

Otherwise: the best-laid plans of the last post have not come to fruition yet, but VIE is still on vacation until Friday, so there's no immediate pressure on that front, except that which comes from my own schedule. I'd still like to have something presentable on Wednesday.

It turns out that The Poet is a totally excellent working companion. For most of the afternoon, we didn't even talk to or look at each other, and I was more focused just from knowing he was there. At least until he started having a really fraught conversation with a reporter.

The Poet also taught me how to sit zazen, which I did for the first time on my own this morning. Had one false start, but the 15 minutes actually went kind of quickly. I think this could be a good thing--I am trying to figure out healthier and more productive models of doing nothing. If that makes any sense. I'm interested to see what happens, even though I feel like an enormous dork talking about this in real life. But all the "z" words are cool.

My department mailbox was full of joy today: both Grey's Anatomy season 2 and the latest Complete Peanuts were there. Of course, it's now going to be a bit before I can indulge.

Speaking of which: back to work.