Tripping

Dead tired. So naturally dead tired. It's 2 AM. I'm still not sleeping. Insomnia, my closest friend, stays with me through the night. I'm to wake up at 4 — latest! — to go somewhere a.k.a. to socialise for business.

Hours earlier, I was sitting in a suburban restaurant, sipping water and eating chocolate cake. We chitchatted until late. I suppose I could have kissed her on my way home or maybe even take her to her place or mine and see what would happen next. Nope. I went home, so nonchalantly missing a chance.

This guy here wants you, she was told by a tipsy lady who was trying to guess what's really between us. There's nothing, I said. It's purely platonic. So be it.

It's 8 AM. I'm sitting on a plane, trying to fall asleep somehow. At least for an instant, it would help. I see things. And amongst them, I see how this squat of mine should look one day. I finally cracked it, Steve had said. I'm perplexed. Now? It's insane but I'm loving it.

Two days later, after I socialised enough, I'm back. Weary as ever. As soon as I alight from the plane, I'm meeting my long-legged slender architect. She's close to perfect, wouldn't it be for drinking beer and chain-smoking. I finally cracked it, I'm explaining with a grin. She hates it but accepts.

I have a plan now. And still am dead tired. So naturally dead tired I'm dropping to bed unconscious. Well, that's a start!