Help me, Drew Barrymore, you're my only hope

I have been thinking about my girlfriend, or lack thereof. I think that is why my chest feels so heavy ... although it could also be the temperature is about 100 and the humidity is like 99%.

If I did not get a girl in high school or college, when things were simpler, and I could walk, what chance do I have? So I am counting on Ms. Barrymore, the queen of romantic comedies. (Buffy would be atop my wishlist but I can't see her doing a romantic comedy.)

I need someone like you, Drew, to fall in love with me -- wheelchair, insecurity and all. And you will need to make about the first 50 moves in order to have a relationship.

Maybe you could work in the bank I wheel by each day on the way to lunch, and you see me again and again, and you can't get me out of your mind.

I can see it now: We meet when you drop a wad of bills, and nice guy that I am, I pick it for you. And soon we are laughing over lunch, you are sitting in my lap as I wheel easily down hills.

It could be a screwball romantic comedy. We would each need wacky sidekicks. Yours could be the skanky-looking bank teller who actually has a PhD in veterinary science and quotes Plato. Mine could be a co-worker who talks to rocks.

It'll be a blast, Drew, and it will make millions.


He put my shoe back on
I wore my sneakers to work today because I need to change to shorts after work and it is easier if I can keep my socks on and just slide my sneakers back on. Otherwise I have to take off my socks to wear shorts.

Anyway, a shoe fell off as my driver was buckling me in. He just kindly put it back on. And I was on time!