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Today, when my sister called, I told her about how Paula had refused to have lunch with me again. Paula said, "I have stuff to do," and didn't even look at me when she said it. Immediately, out of some rhythmic connection with her refusal, I answered, "Right." Upon leaving her I felt as if I were going to die within the month. I wandered around on an extended break thinking about the causes of her refusal. My mind got caught upon the idea of saying to her, "I cannot believe your feelings for me are so shallow that you can only experience my passionate love for you as a source of on-the-job stress." My sister told me that I needed to find alternatives to obsession; that I needed to sing, or think about paintings instead whenever I found myself starting to think about Paula. I told her I'd tried. Then she did something with numerology, and determined from my birthdate that I'm in a Year One. According to what she read, this could be a very big year for me. Unfortunately it doesn't start until April—I have a month of embryonic state left. And all the time she was reading all I wanted to know was, "But what does this mean about me and Paula? Am I required to renounce Paula if I'm to have a happy life? Or does this mean that Paula will start having lunch with me again in April?"
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