You’re at the library working, and the ideas are just rolling…

and then the cutest guy walks in and sits down in a location that’s straight enough in front of you so you can easily stare without turning… but far enough so that it won’t look obvious you’re admiring him like a Picasso….

At that moment, the entire flow of complete sentences and ideas you’ve managed to conjure in your head suddenly become like some jumbled Boggle game….

and it becomes apparent that for the next five minutes you will not be able to work…

or think rationally for that matter…

because a rare piece of manhood just stepped in and beckons to be admired.

So you pretend like you’re typing… but really you’re using your laptop screen as a little fort to hide behind between intense but subtle glances at this living, breathing work of art… chiseled features… square jaw… that whole I don’t even know I look this good aura… and that’s why I just threw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt and why my hair looks slightly shaggy and unkempt.

And to make things worse/better… he pulls out a book and for over an hour… is fully engaged in it.

Somebody pinch me already.