This is, unexpectedly, my second post today, though it won’t seem like it, as I began drafting today’s first post yesterday and then accidentally published it today before I’d finished writing it—but the idiosyncracies of Blogger mean that, though it wasn’t published until late this morning, it’s dated yesterday afternoon. I considered removing it, finishing it, and reposting it complete and whole, but its very unfinishedness is representative of the amount of mental clarity I seem to be able to summon about the issues I was discussing, so I figured, what the hell.
The punchline to the unfinished story is that the anaerobic physicist was the first guest we met after we put our coats away. The meeting of these two people so unnerved me that I could barely remember my own name, which explains why, with no warning, I introduced E.S. as my boyfriend.
So now the cat’s out of the bag, and there’s no going back.
P.S.: His head, unlike mine when the subject came up last time we were dating, did not explode. We discussed it afterwards, and I officially asked him if he would be my boyfriend. He said yes.
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