Today is a bright saturday; and with all the blinds up, the sunlight reflects off the white walls. My p.c. is temporarily located in the Dining Room, next to a set of windows where I can see the street.

As I was editing for the millionth time the last entry, obsessively needing to set just the right tone -- is it too cynical? should it have more humor? should I add more links? etc. and etc. ad nauseum -- I saw what looked like my date -- Jumpseat -- from a couple weeks ago walking by.

I wasn't sure; I jumped up and went out on the front porch, to stare after him as he walked down the end of the street. Yes, it was him! Poofy 80s hair and all.

He doesn't live anywhere near here! -- so he said. He called me once more, but I've been in such a funk with the management fun from last week (see last entry), that I didn't call him back and was going to let it go.

Was I hallucinating? What reason could he possibly have for being in this neighborhood? He knows my first name; did I give him my last? I suppose he could have looked up the tax assessment records on-line. Does the cell phone give out addresses?

This is just too frikken weird.