Live and Learn

I used to think having a sordid little affair sounded kind of fun.
I liked their clandestine nature, the excitement and the thought of being in public with the person without anyone knowing what was going on behind closed doors.
I may have outgrown that phase.
I just finished having a sordid little affair and it left me feeling vaguely skanky.
She was cute, in an aging rocker sort of Melissa Etheridge way, but I wish we would have just stayed friends.
The drama surrounding the sordid little affair ended up wrecking everything–our friendship is in tatters and probably cannot be mended. Plus I'd hired her to produce my show, and no way will that happen now.
Sex without love is a freight train to Hell.
I've jumped off the train, but my emotions feel like my body would have felt had it been a real train.
Otherwise, all in sunny in my life.
Well, not exactly.
The weather has been cold and wet. The turn signal light on my car popped out and it's been too wet and cold to find new screws, hunker down and fix it.
The wind knocked my little loblolly pine tree right out of its planter and it's been too sloppy outside to fix it.
They say bad luck comes in threes.
So I plan to count the sordid affair, the turn signal light and the poor little pine tree as my three.

There. I feel better already.