I’ve had a headache for twenty-four hours. I’m so excited by this. Whee. If you’d like to come by my office and hit me with a hammer, do.

This just happened (and didn’t help my headache any):

That woman with whom I had this wholly unhinged conversation about my dating life asked me about my boyfriend again this morning.

He’s just a good friend. Remember, we talked about this.

He lives in Arkansas, right.

He does! That’s right!

So the one in Texas is your boyfriend, then. When are we going to see him again?

I had a long moment of confusion about whom she meant. I finally realized she was referring to someone I broke up with, oh, four years ago and not anyone I may’ve been out with since.

Oh goodness. You mean Ex-boyfriend? I broke up with him a thousand years ago.

He was a pastor, Churchrat. I don’t know how you could break up with someone doing God’s work.

He wasn’t a pastor.

Oh, I thought he was. But this one from Arkansas, he’s a pastor.


Oh. So who’s your boyfriend then?

I don’t have one right now.

Oh. Then what’s going on with you these days?

I told her that I’m meeting this afternoon with a senator to discuss human trafficking legislation and that I have another similar meeting planned next week. I told her I’m excited.

So you don’t have a boyfriend then?

No, but I have a lot of things going on that are, you know, also meaningful.

I don’t care about any of that. You should get a boyfriend. Are there any boys you like?

I’m considering some candidates, I suppose.

Are any of them pastors?


You’re a church secretary. You should really marry a pastor.

Okay. I’ll bear that in mind.