I had class tonight. I didn’t sleep the night before so my brain was fried. I just accepted I would be late for class and took my time getting the later train. I arrive 25 minutes late and the professor isn’t there. The assistant teacher is there though. I sit in class, posture erect as if to will myself ‘up’. The lecture was grueling. Why do teachers still read the power points? I can read them at home. “I don’t come to class to have you read them to me.”

We finally get to the lab portion. I slowly walked over to the guy I worked with last week. “Do you want to partner again?” I asked. “Sure thing,” he said cheerfully, like a golden Labrador. I pretend not to be excited, “I’ll try to find a closer room this time,” I say in a forced monotone trying so very hard to appear aloof. “Don’t look at his ass. Don’t look at his ass,” I shouted inside my head. I looked. “Oh mamacita.”

At this point, I am functioning on adrenaline and remaining fuel of a Marie Callender sausage, egg and cheese biscuit. This is dangerous because I ramble incessantly when I haven’t slept as if on a weekend cocaine binge. I kept apologizing for rambling but I wouldn’t “Shut The Fuck Up!” But an amazing thing happened. He revealed that he worked nights too and completely understood what I was going through. He even listened to me talk about my day at work. And he shared his day with me too. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was a Mrs. Labrador at home complaining that he never talks about work or ever shares anything with her. Oh well, sucks to be her. He was all mine for those blissful 60 minutes.

Our time ended and we bid our farewells. “I will see you tonight between my thighs lover,” I purred on the inside. I’m not a complete idiot… but a girl can dream…