Dear Liza

I didn’t particularly feel like playing poker last night. That happens a lot lately, and I’ve made mention of it in the appropriately recent past. Yet, there comes a point of an evening when I have read all I want to read, made art (according to what I am reading, to fill a lack), gone about business that needed caring for, caught up with correspondence, and I am left staring at the screen asking “What next?”

The lack is unrelenting, which isn’t really a bother, you see, unless one tries filling it with activities similarly empty. Poker gets like that sometimes: something to prove, I guess. Pre-tilt tilt. But then Mojo pays me a compliment and before you can say “There is a new version of Poker Stars. Download now?” I’m sitting at two six-handed PLO tables. Might as well add some variance to the mix.

And it did not disappoint, down a buy-in within a couple hands with the maniac to my left. I had outs. Yet, with a little readjustment I retrieved it from him and all of the others playing cat and mouse. The second table started no better, AA single suited against AAQQ. Flush draw didn’t get there but his Q on the river did. Left down $3 and somehow felt that hole was not as deep as it was when I started. Moral victories are like that.