Some nights, Edsel is just too much. With the flumping dramatically off the bed whenever I move a corpuscle. Then floomping back on a minute later. With the pressing his head on my neck as hard as he can, for pets. At 4 a.m. So some nights I kick him out. Last night was one …

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When we left each other yesterday, slamming the door and saying, “IT’S OVER! I MEAN IT THIS TIME!”, I was going to try to come back here and write you at lunch. That didn’t happen. Work. Tis busy. So here’s a two-day update on everything that’s happening in my stupid world. I wish to tell …

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Yesterday, I finally relented and called my doctor, because you know how I resist doing that. I’m never one to call the doctor. Or cause a fuss. Anyway, he insisted I get an x-ray of my toe, because apparently if you let it go, occasionally something hellish could happen and all of a sudden Scarlett …

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I had two plans tonight: coworkers were getting drinks at 5:00, and then other friends invited me over at 8:00-ish. Don’t you hate people who add “ish” to a time? What are we, gay men in the ’60s? That outfit is fab, lover. Anyway, I eschewed my right-after-work plans because I didn’t work today. I …

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