Fuck, fuck, fuck...

She is driving me crazy, and she's not even here!

Today was another one of those inaudible-whistle days at work, where it seems like a very high-pitched siren went off, inaudible to guys, and seemingly scores of women are dolled up in the ways I like... a woman down the hall in a black suit, nylons and heels, another woman in a lime-green suit and high-heel mary-janes with terrific legs.

Yet, I don't want to fuck them, I want to fuck Suzanne!

I consider this a good sign. I see other women, and they attract me, and I'm making notes not on how to get with them, but how Suzanne might look in what they're wearing, how they move, how good they look but how much better she'd look.

I want. I want. I want.

She is so amazing, I can't even describe it. But right now, she is 155.5 miles away and I have a meeting tomorrow morning. Otherwise, I'd be there. Now.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.