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Slept again all day-- it was heavenly. Took yet another nap around 10:00 p.m. and awoke up about the bewitching hour.
Being the nocturnal animal that I am, its a common occurance to recieve phone calls at all hours of the night-for when a crisis occures, or someone needs someone to talk to, regardless the subject, chances are, I'll be awake. Its quite amuzing actually, and not bothersome.
What is, however, is those unwanted visitors that show up your door, much like the Mormons doing street rounds, the solicitor selling that must have cleaning solution you just can't buy in stores (like normal people would).
Of course the timing of arrival is always trivial. The occupant of the household is always doing something, cleaning, having sex, occupied with daily living-not expecting an unwanted visitor at the door.
Tonight of course, when the doorbell rang, I shouted "what the fuck". First thought, Kevin. Although that would of been the benign of the two evils, it was indeed oil clad tom. Doned in daily work wear with enough oil on his fingers to get at least 12 oil changes out of, if not more.
Lovely. His motivation: He was out and about, thought he would stop by. Normal afternoon on a sunny day, not so much at 12:30 a.m. Motivation was worring about me, am I alive, am I breathing- although I had talked to him on the phone and told him I am o.k. (Actually I'm quite content lately). Underlying motivation: Street urchian giving away free blowjobs. Mind you, if it was Mel Gibson, or Michael Stipe I wouldn't be writting this entry as such. With Tom and all of his insecurities, and quirks, not. So. Much. For him to have sex, all the lights have to be off, doors locked, barred, security alarm set, and gaurds stationed at the door to make sure, that the off chance someone might just be looking in, at the occurances of what happens in a private home, could possibly happen. Whatever. Not. My. Thing. I proudly de-clined.
There are people i meet in my travels, that have served a purpose in my life. There are those, that shall remain in my life as long as they wish to dwell. There are those that cause so much hardship, boil and trouble, the door has been shut, locked, barred, and gaurds stationed at the door for quite some time. Tom. Is. One. Of. Them.
Being the nocturnal animal that I am, its a common occurance to recieve phone calls at all hours of the night-for when a crisis occures, or someone needs someone to talk to, regardless the subject, chances are, I'll be awake. Its quite amuzing actually, and not bothersome.
What is, however, is those unwanted visitors that show up your door, much like the Mormons doing street rounds, the solicitor selling that must have cleaning solution you just can't buy in stores (like normal people would).
Of course the timing of arrival is always trivial. The occupant of the household is always doing something, cleaning, having sex, occupied with daily living-not expecting an unwanted visitor at the door.
Tonight of course, when the doorbell rang, I shouted "what the fuck". First thought, Kevin. Although that would of been the benign of the two evils, it was indeed oil clad tom. Doned in daily work wear with enough oil on his fingers to get at least 12 oil changes out of, if not more.
Lovely. His motivation: He was out and about, thought he would stop by. Normal afternoon on a sunny day, not so much at 12:30 a.m. Motivation was worring about me, am I alive, am I breathing- although I had talked to him on the phone and told him I am o.k. (Actually I'm quite content lately). Underlying motivation: Street urchian giving away free blowjobs. Mind you, if it was Mel Gibson, or Michael Stipe I wouldn't be writting this entry as such. With Tom and all of his insecurities, and quirks, not. So. Much. For him to have sex, all the lights have to be off, doors locked, barred, security alarm set, and gaurds stationed at the door to make sure, that the off chance someone might just be looking in, at the occurances of what happens in a private home, could possibly happen. Whatever. Not. My. Thing. I proudly de-clined.
There are people i meet in my travels, that have served a purpose in my life. There are those, that shall remain in my life as long as they wish to dwell. There are those that cause so much hardship, boil and trouble, the door has been shut, locked, barred, and gaurds stationed at the door for quite some time. Tom. Is. One. Of. Them.