I don’t miss her at all. I hardly know her. But I don’t want to hurt her feelings. This isn’t a thought process I typically have. Better to hurt someone’s feelings than to be insincere, I normally think. I wonder if the knowledge that I am a Scorpio stellium formed that philosophy (Scorpios are obsessed with the truth and detest insincerity). I can never tell whether I have certain traits because I am a Scorpio or because I know I am a Scorpio. This will all go in my Vice article.

I will pitch it today at Subtropical in between readings.

I get excited thinking of how much money I am about to make. But I have to save it. I vow to have three months’ worth of rent logged before I start making any unnecessary expenditures. If I am in the mood to indulge in nice weed or cooked food, I will call Thomas. I have to stay away from the Mirror Box, unless I am doing readings. Luckily, I have Subtropical now, and there are no strippers dancing for tips there.

I grab my headphones.

The air outside is thick and damp, but not cold. The sky is a bluish gray, and I feel like I’m in Vertigo. I put on Precious Starlets. Hazel has been high on herself since she got cast in that Mamet play, and I can tell Camilla is jealous. The interpersonal tension would normally appeal to me, but today I’m not feeling it. The Precious Starlets got me through some very lonely times, but I’m outgrowing them. I spoke to Beau last night, my dad is impressed by me, and I’m a whole new person.

My therapist I couldn’t afford might just say my OCD has latched on to something else. But that would be too obvious. Therapists don’t understand divine intervention.

I shut off the podcast and put on Counting Crows. I walk quickly to “Mr. Jones,” past billboards and palm trees and schizophrenics. As soon as I am falling into a good rhythm, my phone lights up with a call from Thomas. Why the fuck is he calling me? Who calls people anymore? I immediately send it to voice mail, then shoot him a text.

What do you want?

Lol Em you’re so funny, he responds.

God. Maybe I should just marry Thomas. I can be the biggest bitch in the world and he still gets a kick out of me. If I can’t have Beau, I decide, I will marry Thomas. He is rich and good with his tongue, and he impresses my parents and my terrible personality doesn’t bother him.

I just wanted to see how the rest of your night was, he writes. You left kinda abruptly.

I was exhausted, I say. My night was fine.

Unexpected guilt hits again. My Gemini moon, desperate to be liked. Or maybe I’m just a human being.