I had a very interesting conversation last night with a fellow Gemini. He kind of creeped up out of nowhere. Well, good for him, he came to tumble.

He thought I'd walked out of work. I told him, no, I resigned. And walked out. But they still want me to come back, and if I do, it would totally make me their bitch. It's Animal Planet over here. And I don't want to play anymore.

They're terrified because my stance is that I don't care about money. I treat it like shiny things. That I can magically make it appear. I tell my boss it's not about money. It's how I measure my success. He asked me in terms of growth where I thought I would be next year. 10%. 15% I said, I don't know.

He drew a graph, making a box in the middle. If this is the office average, where would you be? AT THE TOP!, I say, like he's an idiot who just asked me something that should be basic common sense.

This guy totally knows there's no way he can keep me a secret. And there's no way I'm shutting up about it now. Where I point my eyes and my passion, I go. I strive to live up to my ambition.

He swears up and down, he'll build me a portfolio. It'll be a better deal than any of the other ones he's given me. We don't have to go by the numbers.

Dude. You have tricked me for 3 years straight. I'm not falling for it a 4th time, I tell him, pissed off in an earnest kind of way.

No no, this will be the best deal ever. And if you don't like it after a year, you can quit, he says with a grin.

Oh no, he's got the upper hand. He knows he's charmed me.

He lays out the numbers and then lays them out again. He repeats it to me 3 times even when I keep interrupting because I want him to stop. He's talking in circles. But by the 3rd time, the numbers added up. He tells me he'd be happy to give me the deal I asked for, but it's not fair to me and he really wants me to accept a deal that's better. He's laughing so you want to laugh along and then he asks me about my brother which is a cheap, cheap fucking trick because asking me about my brother is like showing a moron something shiny--I get a big grin and start telling Michael stories. And then he has me.

I make one feeble demand. Well, fine, I say. If I take this deal, then I also get to move to San Francisco and work there part time.

(uhwhat? Where did this come from)

"What??" he said, like someone had just sailed a frisbee through the air.

"One of my life goals is to live part-time in two cities. I used to think Seattle and San Francisco, but now I think I'd like to buy property in San Francisco and LA."

"You can afford that?"

"Yes." (bluuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuff!!)

His face twists up with surprise. "With what we pay you?"

"Yes."

"Wow."

"I'm good with money," I say.

He won't budge. "Personally, I would say no, but let me talk to my brother and if he's okay with it, I'm okay with it."

C'mon. Even though I've met the man, I consider him to be a fictitious character.

We leave on that. You can tell the entire office has been listening at the door. As soon as he leaves, they storm the room. Well, and also because I've brought cupcakes. They are laughing. They're convinced my boss has turned my head inside out and convinced me to stay. He does trick me every year with that carrot and I always bite. One of the guys said he'd almost teared up when he found out but now he knows my boss got to me. Yeah, he probably did. It sounds like a lot of money, I think. I could pay off a lot of my mortgage.

Well, I'm woken up this morning by my phone. No one ever calls my home line. It's my coworker, my dark other. He'd been away on business all week. Did you hear, I ask him. I wanted to hear it from you, he says. I turned in my resignation yesterday. There's a heavy silence. Oh man, he says, I guess it was going to happen. It's the same thing I've been thinking a lot about.

Really, I say. I never thought he would seriously leave. We're all magnetized there.

Well, yeah, he says. So is it final final?

No, he wants to give me a proposal. and I, uh, asked to be able to live in San Francisco part time.

He'll never let you do that.

Yeah, I know. That's why I asked.

He groans. The office is gonna be so weird without you.

You've gotta be strong though. You've gotta do a good job and keep coming up with ideas and projects so that they know it's not the company that's doing these things, it's you. Don't give anyone any excuse to devalue your worth and your contributions, okay? Make sure everyone stands up and helps each other, because whoever they bring into this company, if they tell them that we're lazy and we're disorganized, that's how he's going to come in seeing us. If he sees that we're professional, we're creating business, we're strong as a team, they'll know they can't mess with that. We've gotta do it now. Alright? Get everyone on board.

Your efforts won't be wasted, he said. What you've done, the symbolism of it, it won't be for nothing. You really went around the office and woke everyone up. Even my brother said, "Julia. Fuckin' Julia. How did she manage to motivate me into stepping up my game?"

I laugh. These are my fellow salesmen. The ones my boss said he wouldn't feel comfortable paying me more than, despite my higher numbers.

It's because we've never sat down and had a serious conversation, I tell him.

I truly believe I'm a better person having known you, he says.

And here's where in memory, I realize something.

I gave him another bit of motivation, about how I've been really proud of him and how far he comes and how they've stepped up their game to the point of letting people know that we're in control, not them.

I love you, Julia, he says. He's never said that before. He's not really that kind of guy. So I hear it kind of like the way my female friends say it to me.

I keep talking. About fire or something. Was probably feeling awkward.

But in hindsight, I wonder if that was important.

Go to the gym. Listening to music like a drug fiend. Shoot around on the basketball court with my iPod on. My focus is AWFUL, even with the power up. The Kid was there. He's a fraction friendlier. Can't tell if he's on my side of the fence or just shy because I don't pay a lot of attention to him. So I try to be more attentive this game. I'm playing physical. Why not? Had a Ben Wallace block under the basket. My first ever Ben Wallace block on a guy (it's not as much fun to do it on a girl). Was pleasantly shocked. His teammates told him that was really embarrassing. He was a nice guy so it didn't bother him. I liked him for that. Bobby shows up. I swear he's gotten a haircut and his voice is deeper. Can't define if there is a correlation. I liked to guard him because he's easy to mirror. Will choose not to guard him next time because I don't want to be an irritating bully. I'm a constant trash talker. It's like Tourette's. As soon as I'm comfortable with people, my mind can be completely focused on the game but my mouth goes on its own.

Got sad in the middle of the last game. Wow. Afterwards, sat down in corner and put on my iPod. Listening to G'd Up, I like that it's urban but it's so emotionally rich. Sums up how I feel. I rebound my ball and just take off with it to the basket at the other end. This sweet kid with cornrows is there so he rebounds for me and lets me shoot around, then we switch off. He airballs the first shot and I pass it back to him. He mumbles something but I can't hear. What'd you say? "The ball is um...slippery because of sweat on my hands, which is why I missed." I laugh. "That's okay."

They play fullcourt so I go to the other side to shoot. Where the hell is this sadness coming from? It's like having a period start in your chest.

I'm listening to Fort Minor. High Road. Heard it for the first time today. This is my theme song.

Focus is terrible. Accuracy is terrible. The oozing sadness is freaking me out.

Bobby comes over later and says they need one more player. I don't really want to play but there are some types I don't say no to. I think he asked me how I was. I can't remember. I'm heartbroken, I tell him.

What? You have heartburn?

I'm heartbroken, I say.

Oh...sorry, he says.

I play another game pretty half-heartedly but still too physical sometimes. I have a physical death wish. I'm all wet with this shit. It's a physical weight on me and I can't get my jump shot off. So I leave after that game, shower at the gym (haven't done that in years) wear my urban rocker stuff and head out. Drive aimlessly. End up on PCH and take an amazing drive along the coast. I've never gone this far north. The cliffs are incredible. Stop at a beach to stare at the crashing surf. Someone is flying a kite and I think that would be a good idea. But don't feel like stopping to buy one. End up in Oxnard. Drive back.

Beautiful.