Wednesday, July 14, 2004

24. Dick

I realize I haven't written much about my job lately, which is probably an indication of how little it matters to me. I've come mighty close to falling asleep at my desk the last couple of days, after my late-night adventures with Batman.

On top of that, I was 15 minutes late for my appointment with Dr. T. yesterday. The session was incredibly awkward, since I was trying hard not to bring up what's really been going on in my life for the last week. He noticed, and asked at one point, "Any further contact with the Batman?" I tried to change the subject, but I'm sure he saw right through me. Of course he did: he's a shrink, right? As our time was wrapping up, he told me I seemed more anxious than usual--which is true--and handed me a prescription for an anti-anxiety medication. I haven't filled it yet (no time!) but I'll do it on my lunch break. Can't hurt, right?

Called Peter yesterday to try and explain why I've been incommunicado. More hemming and hawing on my part, but he seems understanding. I said I was up against a deadline at work and we made plans to get together Friday night.

Meanwhile, Batman appeared at his usual time again last night. I guess it's evidence of how nonchalant I'm becoming about all this that I'm only getting around to that news now, but there really isn't much to say about his latest visit. He seemed more interested in the contents of my apartment, like the wall over my desk (which is covered with posters from demos of the last 10 years), than in talking to me. Besides, he only stayed about 15 minutes. Told me he's coming back tonight to pick me up at the same corner as before for another trip to the Cave. (Keyword: "told." Didn't ask if it was convenient for me; didn't offer any other options.) Says he has something else to show me.

Frankly, if it's not his cock--and something tells me it won't be--I don't know why I'm even bothering.