Monday again. Followed the advice I heard as I was leaving the office early on Friday that it would be understood if I called in sick today. And sick I felt so sick I called. Unfortunately no one was around to play hooky with, all I could do was play with myself. Chatted a few times with Juan and a few other irregular regulars on gay.com.

It was somewhat productive in the sense that I was able to scan some job search websites and send out the resume. Yes I am hopeful but wary of rejection, which is always a possibility. The glass is neither half full nor half empty, this vessel seems empty. But there is always a chance, it has happened before it might happen again. Where’s Lou Christie?

Ran a few errands, got some bagels, a woman behind the counter on weekdays, surly bagel makers have Mondays off I suppose. The woman looked and sounded like Edie Falco but it wasn’t. Maybe it was merely a hangover from last night’s episode of ‘The Sopranos’. To top it all off I got a haircut after that. Risky business for me since I hadn’t had a cup of coffee yet.

The barbershop on the corner usually has a few paisans in it and this morning seemed like a convention of the pinkie ring set. Fine with me. I told my barber that I hadn’t heard talk like that since Lodi. He laughed saying they talk like that all the time. Nicky and Vinnie and don’t forget Tony. I felt like an extra on the set of the Sopranos.

I didn’t have much hair to cut so it took about 15 minutes with the Three Stooges playing in the background. I did consider get a cut like Moe’s but my hair simply wasn’t long enough and they didn’t know where the bowl was. Made some pasta for lunch and then headed into the city, with enough time to wander around, perhaps have a cigar and read the New Yorker. Of course I stopped once I got in the city to see if there were any British music magazines out this week having bought Mojo last week. There was Uncut magazine which I snapped up fairly quickly and I turned and headed to the counter, where behind the sales guy was the wonderful blue color of Gauloises.

This was the same store that told me in January that they didn’t have anymore. I’m not complaining, and bought what I could and left somewhat satisfied. Immediately rolled one up and it was heaven or at least something that brought me thismuchcloser to heaven.

Sat in Washington Square Park listening to production assistants and avoiding the point of view of various cameras making student films. So if you’re watching a Sundance Channel short student film and see someone that looks like a cross between Philip Seymour Hoffman and Drew Carey in the background chances are, it is Drew Carey or Philip Seymour Hoffman smoking a Padron.

I met up with Bill and we headed over to see Philip Beansprout for our Monday night therapy. I mentioned the hobgoblins at work and how I played hooky. I also brought up my bad handling of taking compliments. Low self esteem issues that would be better handled in individual therapy rather than couples counseling is what Philip Beansprout said.

Initially when we started the therapy with Philip Beansprout the first session left Bill feeling he was ganged up on. Tonight I knew how he felt.

Last Wednesday I mentioned how horny I was to Bill as we were going to see the Dave Chappelle movie. Bill didn’t want to hear it. At least didn’t want to hear how he thought I was saying it. I didn’t mention the fact that I saw this gorgeous man, 6’5”, dressed right out of GQ magazine, wearing a fedora and smoking a nice cigar. My type of man. Untouchable, unhaveable, but enough to stir up the loins.

That’s why I had mentioned how horny I was. Not to rub it in Bill’s face, so to speak. But he heard it as that, I saw his reaction and decided to swallow whatever it is I was going to say. I had a shit day, saw a hot guy. Let’s talk about the shit day.

So we saw the film, Bill and I had a deep chat before he hopped on the train to stay with his cousin that night. I didn’t mention the fact that I was more than likely hypoglycemic as good doctor Sunshine pointed out since she is my sister and had the same symptoms.

So what I learned tonight is not to nag, not to mention if I am horny. If anything happens it will happen. If it doesn’t, there’s always somewhere else to go. Do I need to keep reminding myself of that fact? Because I feel I might be going elsewhere more often than not. That’s how it is. That’s how it’s gonna be.