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May 11, 2003
Most plans I make, I don't want to keep. Most calls I make, I don't want to make. In a rare fit of magnanimity, perhaps induced by caffeine ingestion, I ask you to meet me for dinner sometime next week. You agree. As the day approaches, my dread increases. Finally the evening is at hand, and I'm in full dread mode. The phone rings. Although I hate phones, and never answer, this time I do, and I'm glad. You cannot make it tonight. I pretend I'm disappointed. And, in a fit of magnanimity, make plans to see you next week.