an incredible string of good fortune

My date with Mahavira last night ended this morning at 10:30am when I finally dragged my tremendously hungover ass out of her bed and down to the street. It was a gorgeous morning and I felt more peaceful walking the five blocks from her apartment over top Mississippi Pizza to my car down on Shaver than I did during the whole hangover. It was grey, crisp, damp but not raining. Mississippi was abuz with morning people. I longed to duck in (or climb up) to Muddy's Coffeehouse which I passed on my way, to sit in the gray morning and sip a nice Americano with a bunch of strangers, but the thought of coffee or anything else made my stomach churn and my head spin, so I walked on by.

I finally made it home and found my landlord raking the leaves off my stairs, the two boys all bundled and "helping" nearby. It was probably pretty obvious that I was just dragging in from last night's activities as I stood there in my rumpled, smoky clothes and my bedhead, making the chit-chat and thanking him for cleaning the leaves off my steps. Oh well. I'm an adult, I suppose it's not particularly shocking.

I came in and collapsed into bed, having forgotten my cell phone in my car. I woke some time later, no idea how long I'd been asleep, and forced myself up, into some clothes and out to my car to check for texts from Mahavira. There were two. They were good. Mahavira is good. My date with Mahavira was really, really good. Wow. I thought Gully was awesome, Mahavira makes Gully look dull and unispired. Which is saying a lot because Gully was pretty inspired. But Mahavira... well... she's another story.