negative ye burr, pre-music version

I'm having a neurotic moment -- like what T was describing when he called to tell me he's sending me the first part of his novel to read. He's a little nervous. He said he imagines it as if we are sitting in a coffee shop together and I push the manuscript across the table to him, lean back, maybe suck on the end of my pen then take a deep breath (rather like a sigh) and say, "Look. This is horrible. You're horrible. Please stop writing. We can't be friends." He admits that this is not likely to happen and totally irrational.

So along those lines. I'm going to a concert tonight. A city concert that will be dense with trendy young people and I'm trying to remember what that's like and (oh lord) what I should wear. I don't want to be too cold, too hot, too practical, too impractical. Basically I want to wear a smock, leggings and a comfortable sort of face covering. And slippers. I'm realizing I've lived too long outside civilization, in a rural county. The city is dark and evil and I believe that if I show any skin (ANKLES!) I will be hunted down and assaulted by lustful men-types. Rapists and murders lurk in every shadow. Peace, peace, but there is no peace. Etc.

So we'll see how it goes.