noah, are you stalking me?

i seem to have a lot of two's lately.

sure, now that i have vocalized it, i won't be able to think of anything to support that statement. let me take a stab at it, though...

i worked from 5:30 this morning until 8:15 tonight.

on the way home-after ordering pizza from my current regular place, hot mama's (regulars are important to me, i've got a little rain man in me) i set off for home. natch, i told the chico on the phone i would just have whatever i ordered last time..."your regular, chris?" he says, the smile obvious in his voice.

ouch.

i don't mind being consistent. i do mind being a "creature" of anything, habit included. and why is it that near strangers are close enough to me to point out my consistency, but my boss isn't?

i think one of those folks is likely a better, happier person than the other. agreed?

as i am walking home, waiting for a crosswalk light to change-as i do on occassion-i hear someone say, "howdy, chris". looking over i see a former colleague of mine from macy's that i worked with in portland. he and i have run into each other randomly since i moved here. more now that he has moved to town, too.

little bitch-bear has lived here a year and has a boyfriend. a live-in, no less. how's that supposed to make me feel? pissing and moaning as i like to about how undateable this town is.

grr.

anyway, this is the second time in three days i have run into him. we both head into the same murder mart. me for beer, him for ice cream. i'm thinking about my pint of ben and jerry's in the fridge. yum.

top it off with the fact that the place they live-did i mention they live together?-is hardly two blocks from me.

i get home and check my email as i unwind with a beer, waiting for my pizza goodness.

i have a message from a guy i have been trading emails with. zane. my age-ish, good job, house, seems nice and balanced. my sister would definitely approve. this is the second email i have gotten from zane in a week since we started chatting. before now, one every ten days or so.

as i am responding, my mind drifts to my friend jz-squared. one of the "z's" stands for...zane. great. now i have two of them. it's not like i met a couple of guys with a common name like, oh, chris. zane. awesome. top it off with him being twice jz-squared's age.

my phone rings...pizza girl. buzz her up. pay. "good to see you again, is it bad that i'm a regular?" i ask. "nah...i see lots of single guys a couple times a week. kinda surprised you became one, though. pizza always seemed like such a treat for you, not a basic food group like some guys". i'm a regular. oof da.

i just look at her as she stuffs my tip into her shirt-who still does that? she giggles and heads for the elevator. it's probably elevator #2.

i'm feeling better as i watch my latest netflix and eat pizza. lucky 7 is the flick. i think this may break the cycle. i realize i am serving myself two slices at a time.

setting aside my second pizza of the week, half through, i toddle off to the freezer and dig into a pint of cake batter ice cream. convinced now that i am really bucking the trend numerology seems to be dialing me into.

until i realize...it's my second pint of the week. damn qfc and their two-fer sale!