And I'm searching for the dolphin in the sea, and sometimes I wonder, do you ever think of me

While Ann was showing me how to scan mortgages into the computer yesterday, I was distracted by how good she smelled. Whatever she was wearing, it was warm, sweet, and natural. I decided to comment after debating for a couple of minutes over whether it would be too forward of me to do so. After dropping the ball regarding the heart attack conversation ( I never did offer my condolences), I wasn't going to keep quiet this time, especially when it was a no-brainer. Who doesn't like being told they smell great?

So, as gentlemanly as I could muster, I told her and asked her what scent she wearing. I received an unexpected reply. She told me she doesn't have a sense of smell so she couldn't be sure what it was. Maybe it was the body lotion she put on that morning, she wondered.

"You really can't smell anything?", I asked, not sure if she was joking.

"I can't. When I was younger, I hit my head on the pavement and one of the consequences of the injury was the loss of smell."

I was intrigued. " What happened, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I was being stupid---I was twenty and fell off the hood of a car and landed on my head. I was in a coma for three days."

I had never spoken with anyone who'd been in a coma before. I was riveted and had a ton of questions, but realized, because we were in a work environment, I'd have to keep them to an unfortunate minimum. So I asked her the first question that popped in my head. "What was it like waking up from the coma? You must have been confused about how you ended up where you were."

"I was, but honestly, I don't remember much because I was on a ton of meds. "

She told me a bit more about the accident, but I didn't want to press the issue---I could tell she wasn't entirely comfortable reliving the experience--- so we returned our focus to the job at hand. I was glad I told her she smelled nice. And I was glad I was able to spend some time with her. When our training session was complete, I didn't want to leave, and I don't think she wanted me to, either, but there was no other option that made sense. I thanked her for the tutorial, for being patient with me. She thanked me for sitting with her. I thought that was sweet.
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Spira and I hung out last night. We walked over to Yoshis for dinner. Got some tuna tar tar, dumplings, and of course, some Black Dragon sushi. Afterward, we walked over to Starbucks and grabbed some coffee and walked back to my place. Just like old times, we had some smoke, talked, and played music for each other.

She turned me on to The Acorn, Fleet Foxes, The Ting Tings, and a great compilation of African music. I introduced her to Isobel Campbell, Teitur, Fred Neil, and Joni Mitchell's epic masterpiece, Don Juan's Reckless Daughter. We watched Super High Me a bit later. It was a fun night. We need to hang out more often.
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My heart is heavy with what I have to do. I'm sure I'm making the right choice, but it hurts just thinking about it.

Fucking hell!