tardiness abound in november. so far i'm 2 days late with this very sentence, & next week's sermon won't be until wednesday at least. next tuesday's the tricky show in town, so i have an excuse there. as for this week... i have my reasons. don't doubt me my flock, but there are some things you're not ready for at this, still an early stage in your digital spiritual journey. you shall know all when the time is right.

i've grown accustomed recently to a relatively asexual environment. per the trend, there is no romance in my workplace. there are people with spouses there, & i'm sure there's some dating within the company, but they keep it to themselves. i don't have to see it, just the occasional photo on a desk or cube wall. so for awhile i'd forgotten how much pda bothers me.

i've never been sure that pda was a national term & not something a teacher made up, so i'll expand the acronym. public displays of affection. not that i'm not incredibly affectionate (take me in the bedroom & i'll show you); i just keep it private. pda is pretty inconsiderate; i know i don't want to see it.

most of the time pda bothers me because i'm so perpetually lonely. i don't have anyone, so i anytime i see a happy couple it's like a little stab in the brain. what's worse is they all hit in different spots. when average, rather normal people pda (i'm using it as a verb now, 'cause i can) it's not that bad, just a little prick that says, "thEy haVe someoNe! yOu doN't!" it's worse when really annoying or disgusting people pda; it's a downright stab that says, "dAmn, thEy hAve soMeone! yoU suCk!" & when attractive people pda, that's just a gut-puncture of jealousy. it doesn't even hit the brain; it fakes you out.

even on the rare isolated occasions that i am momentarily involved with someone (& this is somewhat conjecture here, because some of those relationships were mere microseconds in duration), i still don't really want to see it. it's not my thing; the only kissing i want to see is my own. if i feel different i'll go to the movies.

i don't want you to think i'm some dried-up bitter old misanthrope. i can handle the small stuff: an arm around the shoulder, a hand on the knee. i can even live with the occasional hug, provided its merited. but kissing makes me uncomfortable. even the sound from nearby is a little unsettling. it's a prod in an already sensitive area. yeah yeah, i'm miserably alone & you're not. don't shove it in my face. that's just an example, & there are exceptions, but you get it.

& if there ever is an end to this drought, you know i'll do my best to follow these rules. i can't promise anything (there are a few women on this planet that i couldn't resist ever), but since it's never going to happen anyway, you're pretty safe.