I have a date with Mr. Saturday Night this weekend. (If this turns into something I will have to find a better nickname for him, I guess. �Mr. Saturday Night� is even more cumbersome than �The Irishman.�)

I�m nervous! I hope we find each other as interesting as we did last Saturday.

And I think I�m feeling a slight twinge of melancholy. Yes, this guy seems quite all right, and dates can be so much fun, and there�s always the possibility that a first date can lead to something more wonderful than you ever dared imagine, and I really am an optimist in my heart. Yes, lately I�ve been sensing that very good things are just around the corner. But woven in with all the upbeat sentiment is a tiny thread of ambivalence. It�s partly the mild disappointment I feel at having to be out on another first date. It�s partly the fear that this date, like so many others, will lead nowhere. It�s partly the deflation of realizing that I have to keep doing this, no matter what I see in Gemini�s eyes when he lets down his guard.

But you know what�s even more nerve-wracking than a first date? Having a friend from work come over to babysit! I have to whip my apartment into shape, pronto. Thank goodness I took Friday off.

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