Today, Friday the 13th, has been a stunning day. It has been a weird cycle of everything under the moon. The sheer looniness of the day inspired me to check the moon phase. Tonight is a half moon, not a new moon or a full moon, just a regular, run-of-the-mill partial moon.
The thing that struck me most about today was the sheer number of people who attempted to wrangle time with me. To be blunt, the amount of men hitting on me today was astounding.
I have to admit that generally speaking, it takes me awhile to understand that someone is attempting to hit on me. Unless I happen to be the one wanting to flirt, it fails to immediately come to my attention that the friendly conversation I am having with someone is, in actuality, the beginning stages of a mating dance.
I understand that some of the men I spoke with today were just being friendly. There were several situations where I was simply engaging in interesting conversations. That being said, had I given a number of men anything resembling actual encouragement, my Fridays and Saturdays would probably be booked for the next month. Or two. Possibly three.
Being oblivious is both a blessing and a curse. I’m going to admit that I’m not totally oblivious. I intentionally ascribe the responsiveness of the opposite sex as nothing other than benign friendliness. There are many reasons for this deliberate obtuseness. The principal reason has to be that I am not on the market. I am not looking. That being said, it does not mean that I am not flattered and it certainly does not mean that I am not vastly interested in some of the rather remarkable stories people tell. Often, people I meet tell me intimate stories and then wonder aloud why they felt compelled to do so. I have no answer to this. It simply is.
Perhaps they sense that I am truly interested. As often as possible I work at a coffee shop or somewhere with activity and people but I usually work from home. I have no water cooler over which I can trade gossip; I have no coffee breaks with work-friends. Work is me. I am my entire place of business. Not that I don’t love myself but I already know what I’m thinking. I like to hear differing opinions and see people in various states of emotions and moods. I enjoy the ways in which people come to conclusions and I like hearing random conversations.
As I sit here thinking about the ‘day of Dee’, I am both flattered and confused. What about today prompted such a large and eclectic number of men to attempt to seek my companionship?
I can be the epitome of feminine and wonder if it was the clothes I wore, the style of my hair, the scent from my skin. I can look at it psychologically and believe it may be something to do with the convergence of day and date. Perhaps inhibitions are suppressed when danger is thought to be nigh. I can look at it philosophically and believe it may have something to do with the strange weather coursing from fall/winter to high summer and back again to fall in the course of a mere 48 hours. Perhaps the chill swirling through the air even as the sun beat down warming rays had a part in the day. I may even look at it physiologically and wonder if the interval between intimacies has elicited some bodily response that is being unintentionally broadcast. Mayhap it is the assemblage of several of these possibilities. I simply have no idea.
What I do know is that today began as my typical Tuesday and everyone else’s Friday the 13th. I killed the coffee pot. Twice. Narrowly avoided a side-impact collision due to someone else’s inattention. Ran late for an appointment where my client decided to converse in Greek (which I do not speak). Found the exact item I wanted to purchase on sale and I had a coupon. Walked in the sun. Purchased the wrong item for another project but had enough time to return and obtain the correct thing. Got hit on again. And again. And again.
Does it sound like a complaint? I would never complain about something so life-affirming. I am beyond flattered and my ego has been jacked to the hilt. Today I entertained flirts from mechanics to millionaires and I wish to express my appreciation.
It is still early and I have an enormous amount of work to do. Instead of soaking in a hot bath and sharing my day via cyberworld, I should have been productive. For many reasons, the day has been beyond compare, not the least of which has been the attention.
For every up there is a down, for every happy there is a sad, for every forward there is a reverse. As I revel in the day, I sit here alone, typing on my computer. Tired and waiting, I am dressed in an undressed type of way, wearing a ridiculously purple and pink leopard print shortie. Leopards do not come naturally in these colors and I attempt to not wonder how anyone decided an ersatz gown should be bedecked with the atrocious pattern. And I wonder about it anyway, as I wear the questionable thing. And if you promise to not tell, I’ll even admit that I actually purchased this item of ill-repute myself. I can only conclude that I was in an altered state of mind at the time.
I will awaken tomorrow and see if the coffee pot is beyond dead. I will evict the snakes from the basement (which is not code or a euphemism), and I will be productive for awhile. Then I will find the sun, or a smile, or a place to dance and I will enjoy the time I have.
I will make every moment count and I will meet more interesting people. I will smile and listen and if necessary, I will again be intentionally obtuse. I will thank you all for the smiles and the stories and the time we have shared.