An End to the Strike?

I almost had myself convinced that I was finally owning my strike. You know, really consciously choosing NOT to even try and meet men, because I needed a break. And really, as boring as the break was in some ways, it has been less stressful just not having to worry about some guy and whether he was going to call.

But then last night when the very nice guy I'd been hanging out with at this concert asked for my number, I caved. Because it was too loud in there to explain how I was on strike, and he would have thought I was crazy. And also because if nothing else, I'll have yet another story.

His codename will be The Minstrel. It's not entirely accurate, but he does play the mandolin.

In other news, I am almost sure I'll be seeing an Old Buddy From The Navy next week. Also known as my favorite mood enhancer. Who needs drugs?