8:46, Thursday night

Tonight is a night to
feel sorry for myself.
Before, I'd probably
use this blog as
a way to write my way out
of the funk
of going to the gym
of pretending to forget my wallet,
of instead going
to ChockChai
to get takeout
of grubby, greasy Thai food
to clog my arteries.

I'd write about the nap
I stole this afternoon
filled with strange, frightening dreams

But I don't,
or I can't,
really do that
anymore.
Here.

Instead, I'll just hope
that tomorrow's a better day,
that the first date
that I have next week with a girl
that has an old woman's name
goes well,
that I begin to transform
this debilitating loneliness
into strapping solitude
that this minor
bout of unhappiness
passes like the
month of November.