i was way tired at work today because I didn't get home until 3am the
night before because I'd been in Stanford until 2am . . . on a date!  this
bodes well, I think.  I bolted right at 6 to get home and get some rest,
but after some dinner and vegging in front of Friends (shut up, you
probably watch it too) reruns, I went downstairs to lay down and found
that I was wide awake.  whatever - I took the awaketime to call up Sarah
(other half of afforementioned date, myself being the first) and ask her
out again this weekend.  sounded happy to hear me, accepted the date, we
talked for a while, she said she felt comfortable around me and that the
CD I had brought her (made her a copy of a CD she'd mentioned liking on
the trip) was the most thoughtful thing anyone had ever brought her
(presumably date-related).  so, like, yay!  I think I'll hold off on
telling her about this journal for a bit, just so I can take the time to
gush and not feel stupid.  but I'm totally pumped about this whole Sarah
thing.  a date, and a follow-up date, and she's cool and we can talk and
she's interesting and cute . . . 

Todd: "Love is like this great big pump . . ." -Microserfs, Douglas
Coupland

don't get me wrong, I'm not saying it's love - that'd be way premature.
I'm just happy to be happy and to be sharing happiness with a romantic
interest.  I'm even able to forget how much work gets me down sometimes -
I think it was largely fatigue today anyhow.  and work means money (a very
SMALL amount of actual spending money, but anyhow . . .), and money means
dates, and dates are fun!  

gee, I'm not nearly as poetic when I'm happy.  how unfortunate.