Dammit. Its the end of yet ANOTHER weekend. It feels like I just got home from work. This is so sad. I really want to cry.
Starting Monday, I have decided to try, try, TRY not to complain about work any more at least while Im in the office anyway. Ill have to get it out somewhere, mind you, so its gonna have to be here. But I get so pissed off at people throwing things on my desk at 5:15 with little sticky notes on them saying they need information/feedback/finished work from me first thing in the morning, while they happily breeze out of the office for the evening. Ive finally gotten assertive enough to nicely explain to the most recent culprit that it aint gonna happen anymore. I realize that absolutely everything that gets handed to me is extremely urgent. But kids, its not brain surgery. And Im no surgeon.
This industry is insane. But I chose it, and I do love it. And I realize that I really do need to be able to say NO to unrealistic expectations from people. I hate saying NO, but not saying no has been the root of my problems lately.
Sure, its great to be in demand. But my teams are so freaking demanding. Inch definitely equals miles with them.
So yeah, on Friday when I finally got home from work, I went straight to bed and didnt get up until Saturday morning. And oh la la, did that sleep feel goooood. But it sure did make my weekend feel cut a little short. Especially when I went to the office for a while both on Saturday and today.
My dilemma for the weekend was the fact that I simply could not sleep, eat, or drink enough. I went overboard with all three and now feel a twinge of guilt .but really pretty damn satisfied! My bellys full, I took an amazing nap this afternoon, and cut pretty loose last night!
And heres the deal: Im really starting to dig Paul. As much as Ive been trying not to. Hes got such easy going ways that it almost doesnt feel like were going on dates it feels more like friends hanging out. And for some reason, its working with me. I mean, if thats what hes trying to do. If hes not, well then. Im going to feel even more stupid than I already do. Ya know? I have been so unsuccessful with men in the recent past that the thought of actually dating scares the shit out of me. So if hes as intuitive as I think he is, then he knows what hes doing. And I think I know what hes doing. I just wish I knew what the hell I am doing.
What did I just write?
Whatever. We had fun last night. Saw Eternal Sunshine again. Loved it again. And then we went around the corner to the Mexican place to drink mojitos. My friend/co-worker Jennifer and one of her friends met us out, and we laughed our asses off and just kinda bullshitted. Jen and friend then suddenly asked, Oh my gosh, are you on a DATE??? I looked at Paul and shrugged my shoulders. He looked at me like, yeah guess so.
Then we went down the block to the Irish pub where Paul and I met. Weve been there together other times, but this time it seemed different and this time he was a little sentimental about it. Like, heeeyyy, were standing right next to the area where you and I met for the first time! It was kind of cute. And he was kind of cute, sort of holding my hand and pulling me close and kissing me on the cheek several times.
And then he walked me home and we kissed like FOR REAL for the first time. And even though I was kinda sloppy drunk, I liked it. It was a small kiss, but it was real. Not one of those half-assed barely there kisses like weve had in the past.
And then he was gone.
I like the slowness of this.
I slept pretty hard, but woke pretty early. Paul had been talking about doing this charity 5K (or was it 10K?) run this morning, so I called to wish him luck on his voice mail. I was surprised that he groggily answered the phone. Whoops. Woke him up. He had opted for sleep instead.
But we ended up talking for about an hour.
Who knows. I certainly dont.
Okay, Sunday night, I know youre almost over. I wish we had more time to spend together.
Loading comments...