As I sit here sipping a cappuccino before heading out for the evening, I’m pondering what may be one of my bigger decisions of the last decade; obviously not THE biggest, if you know me, but still – moderately challenging in terms of determining the best course of action. As is typical with me and my fellow-travelers, Byronesque romantics all, my head and heart are leading me in two different directions for the moment. Will there be a dramatic last-minute reconciliation between the two? Will there be a slow arabesque, drawing head and heart closer together until finally they realize that they can coexist and be happy together with the same decision? Will they remain standoffish, forcing me to choose the happiness of the one at the expense of the other? Only time will tell.
In the meantime, I Godzilla-wrestled my car into submission tonight, replacing a thornily-placed radiator hose with four connections, a mini-Hydra of rubber and grease and oxidized coolant. I emerged victorious (naturally – I’m a stud). However, I’m still picking grit and motor oil out of various crevices in my body, and this is even after I showered and scrubbed like a surgeon with OCD. I figure after a couple cold beers I won’t mind, and I’ve learned quite a bit about my car’s engine in the last couple days that will serve me will for future explorations under the hood.
I’m going to stop there or else I’ll bore you to fucking tears and nobody likes a bore.

