I dreamt about the Realtor…again. I met her for dinner and my son was sitting by me and my best friend would be joining. The waiter got really antsy. I looked like shit. I was un-showered in my Adventure Time t-shirt and some beat-up jeans and the Realtor looked gorgeous and was confident and poised like she usually is. My son was quiet–so I know that is a dream. Finally, the Realtor went out to the parking lot after sending a text and came back in fairly quickly and then she got out a P-card from her firm. She was going to run it in the remote credit card machine, and then changed her mind and whipped out another card that was my best friend’s and the waiter balked. She explained to him that my best friend was out in the parking lot–parking–and would be joining. She got there just in time for us to toast–my son had a Pellegrino–and I reminded my son and best friend to make eye contact. I didn’t have to remind the Realtor.

My son asked me yesterday if I’d heard from the climber and I told him no. He asked why I don’t text her, and I said that I don’t chase. I also told him that she is Batman. I recall when we were in my bed after the ballet and she was talking about comets. I didn’t know what the hell she was talking about really, because I wasn’t as well read as I am now:

1. “The Polyamorists Next Door”
2. “The Many Faces of Polyamory: Longing and Belonging in Concurrent Relationships”
3. “Plural Loves”
4. “The Ethical Slut”

“Stepping off the Relationship Escalator: Uncommon Love and Life” came yesterday, but I want to finish “Broken Horses” first. I had to read “The Devil’s Rooming House” within 24-hours so I’m ready for book club on Sunday in between things too. But, I digress.

The climber is Batman because she is a satellite to me. She’s not a comet. She has a signal. My son was at her house a couple of weeks ago dancing. I work with her some weeks–I have to say some because she doesn’t sleep, but instead adventures to the max so sometimes literally is still elsewhere on Sunday nights or Monday mornings–and can feel her office when I’m at work. She’s Batman because there is a bat signal that emanates from her home, which is blocks from mine, from conversations with colleagues at times, in my car for commutes, and of course occasionally in the building.