am a nomad of the night.
As I write this, I'm sprawled out across my own bed in my own apartment --
alone. The last week, which has been somewhat interesting, has come full
circle. With each night over the course of the last six, I've found myself
in a different bed at a different address and, many times, in a different
town. And with many of the new days that I awoke to came new twists to my
Wednesday, January 29
I slept at work as I was in the midst of a 36-hour shift. Oddly enough, this
may have been the best night's sleep of the week. We renovated our living
quarters late last year and in the month we've been living in our new digs,
I'm yet to be woken up for a call. How great of a streak is that?
Thursday, January 30
With my 36'er behind me, I drove up to
place. Technically, this should have been our fifth date. It ended up consisting
of us eating Wendy's, hanging out on the couch, watching Jay Leno and going
to bed. It felt like we'd known each other for months... no weeks. We both
commented that it might be possible that we're too comfortable with each
now thinks she knows why most of my relationships don't last long -- I've
got them all on express mode. She may be right.
Friday, January 31
& I drove into Memphis to check out the "Speak Softly & Carry A Beagle"
exhibit -- a tribute to Charles Shultz and Peanuts -- at the Brooks Museum.
We caught it only a few days before it wrapped up its months-long exhibition,
so you can tell I was involved in the planning. Facts and history about Shultz
and the strip filled two large rooms and this means that we essentially spent
about an hour and a half reading comics. We had a great time... It was good
to have fun with
again... For the time we spent at the museum, the dark cloud that had been
hanging over of was nowhere to be found.
Of course, all good things must come to an end.
The happy feeling we had a the museum was disturbed on the ride home with
the underlying uncertainties of our friendship. She's dealing with a lot
of shit right now... And whatever I've got going on with
isn't helping. With
in the picture,
says that she feels confused about her place in my life. Certainly, this
is evidence of what everyone's been telling me -- that I'm much more than
a friend to
Yet, I don't feel as though
& I can ever have an honest conversation about the matter. Before we
made it back to
we managed to talk through a lot of stuff and resolve whatever the problem
was. I drove home to
and ended my night crashed on the couch in my mom's den.
Oddly enough, one of the last things I saw on television that night was a
Headline News report on the landing of the space shuttle Columbia. You'll
never believe me, but I thought to myself, "you know... those things are
almost becoming too routine again."
Saturday, February 1
I woke up to my mom saying, "Fletch, the space shuttle blew up."
I sat up, pivoted on my ass and rolled out of the sleeping position -- much
as I do for a fire call in the middle of the night. I muttered something
along the lines of, "no... no." Why do we always say "no" when someone delivers
Saturday takes the award for most interesting. After it began with bad news,
I ended up hanging around the house for most of the day watching news reports.
All things couldn't remain sad, as I was a guest at my uncle's surprise 50th
birthday party that night.
The party was fun -- too much fun. I managed to drink a few too many beers
on a nearly empty stomach. After seven Bud Lights, I was happy, content and
didn't need another. Then one of my aunt's friends -- nearly 10 years my
senior -- bought me another. And another. And another. She ended up taking
me to her house and wanted to give me an eleventh beer... Damn. Had she stopped
a few beers earlier, I might have been hers forever. As it was, though, I
just wanted to go to sleep.
Sunday, February 2
The gal from Saturday night drove me back to
from her house some 30 minutes down the road. I had her drop me off at
apartment. I just said, "drive me over to a friend's place -- it'll be quicker
than taking me home." I was right. It was quicker. But, in reality, I just
didn't want some woman dropping me off at my mom's house. That seemed like
bad form. Instead,
drove me home and sort of set me straight on how foolish I'd been to do what
I spent most of the day either asleep or hungover. That evening, I hung out
for a while and ended up crashing there.
Monday, February 3
All day, I felt crummy about the weekend. I shouldn't have drank so much
at the party. I shouldn't have gone home with that woman. I should have taken
the high road... but I didn't... and that fact had me questioning all sort
of things about myself.
had suggested that we do something tonight. I didn't really feel like it.
I still feel totally drained from the weekend, but I called her anyway and
asked her if she wanted to get together. Essentially, she said something
along the lines of, "not really." At that one moment, all of the insecurities
that I'd felt after the
experience came rushing back. For the first time, I suddenly doubted everything
I knew about
I hate that feeling.
I got a voice mail a couple of hours after that conversation from
telling me that she didn't want to upset me by not going out. That made me
a bit better... but I really have no idea where this
thing is headed or what I want it to become.