I read, I wrote, I played guitar, I sang. It all ended with "so?"

And it's not a depressed sort of "so?" Just a very nothing sort of "so?" Like the "oh boy" at the end of "I read the news today" in that wonderful song.

I think what I'm finally learning is something I read many, many times, but never quite understood, which can be said many ways, probably the most popular being, "the fun is in getting there". Focusing on outcomes and/or results leads to an emptiness which can only be filled by being consumed with the thoughts and/or activity of the moment. But, of course, getting it right can become one of those tricky things, like trying to fall asleep.

Wow, I almost forgot what an amazing body the waitress who served us breakfast this morning had. Too old a face and hands, I suppose. But about 5' 11", with the power to turn denim jeans into a lethal weapon specializing in paralyzing the diaphragm. Take that Top Gun song about "take my breath away", and replace those lyrics with, "take my breath, soul, first born and bank account away", and we're getting warm on the effect those long legs and perfect hips swaying like a working woman's should had on me. I have no idea how I'm going to manage passing the spoon and fork I swallowed when my girlfriend wasn't looking.

Don't get me wrong. I don't think of other women when we have sex. I've found doing that actually wrecks things for me. I need to be wholly with the one I'm with, otherwise even just a little bit of diversion into "scenes" results in reduced excitement. I guess you could say I'm lucky in that way, because it has the side benefit of never having to feel guilty about that subtle form of cheating.