And my bed plays along: "Come on, baby ... ain't I always been good to you? Just lay down for a minute. Or two. Nobody will know..."

On and on. I want so bad to call in to work today, but after that whole week off before, and a slightly short of 40 work week last week, fact is I rather need the hours, and broken bone or not at least seeming as if the job matters to me a little is still an image I'd somewhat like to project.

On the plus side of things: Having this journal seems to be creating a habit wherein I write here as a method of waking myself -- as time consuming as anything else, but I'm sure any writer would agree that any life habits that tend to make you regularly sit down and write are not completely bad habits.

But onward ... this far in my Morning Routine (revised), I have my underwear and my one normal sock on. My aircast is removed, and I will be putting on pants shortly.

So last night after one of my classes, I end up talking to this one girl again. Actually, it's not quite accurate to say I "ended up" talking to her.

In class we were in the same row, so effectively out of one another's view if we looked forward. When one of us spoke (as she had to at some point), the other could lean over and maybe see most of them, but even then the view was not good. I relate all this because despite these obstacles I still managed to check this girl out about a million times in class. She's cute.

Hella short (under 5') with trendy little black shoes giving her a few extra, catseye glasses, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail -- pretty brown eyes, freckles. Cute.

So, though I've no idea how it might be possible, I rather got the impression in class that any who cared knew I was checking her out. So at the end of class, she first walks out the door (which I notice with peripheral vision, since I am gathering my things) then comes back in to ask me if I need help with anything -- class ended early, she was in no hurry.

Well, all I have once packed up is my big backpack -- I'm rather hesitant to hand it over to this little girl because it really is pretty heavy -- even on crutches I think I could carry it easier than her. No worries, tho -- I get to strap it on and it becomes plain that by "need help" she meant "want to hang out and talk awhile".

And we do. Nice conversation -- second time since class started that we hung out way past when everybody else is gone, just talking.

At one point in the conversation, as she's talking, I'm looking at her and considering -- well, how much different she's appear with her hair down, sans glasses, clothes, and words -- and like a psychic, she actually feels that and mumbles something about getting home.

But she does not. We continue talking for another 30 minutes at least -- 20 minutes or so into which, I start to wander to my car, at which point she goes:

"... Did you get my number?"

Well, I actually hadn't asked. But what rational straight guy is gonna tell an attractive young woman that he doesn't want her number? So she gives it to me, and pretty much the entire time she keeps reiterating that she just likes to exchange numbers with someone in every class, just so you can communicate that way. She'd even gotten the number of one of the other women in class.