Had a dream this morning about one of the guys who works next door. His pregnant girlfriend was so angry with me for making out with him that she kept calling me "The Hawthorne Waitress." Except that it felt more like she was saying "The Evil Temptress." I tried to get dressed surreptitiously,* but I couldn't find all of my layers. It felt like I would never be able to put all of my clothes back on.
When I was a bit less groggy it occurred* to me that I am not a Hawthorne waitress, but a Division waitress. Now the seed is planted in my head: maybe I should make out with the guy who works next door. Sure, he's older--I don't know how much older--but he can get me free beers.
Then it occurs to me that I should maybe stop seeing the world in terms of people to date.
*it turns out that I know how to spell surreptitiously but not occurred.
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