Thursdays continue to be my favorite day of the week.
I’m done at the Academy by 2:00 in the afternoon, and I have the whole rest of the day to do what I want to, or complete any overdue projects. What did I do tonight? Picked up a few more hours at Job #1, caught a deal at Maurice’s after which I am the proud owner of a new dress and 2 pairs of earrings, a lovely lunch with a coworker, met up with the lacrosse team, enjoyed a bowl of homemade alfredo pasta, worked on a project for a potential job, and am now finally getting around to you, my fellow Jedi.
The best part? Except from finally getting to slip into my pajama pants? I haven’t been stressed about anything. Not once in the last 24 hours. What is it about Thursdays that make it easier on my brain?
Despite all of this time to do anything I want, I do know there are a dozen projects I could still be catching up on or getting a head start on. I meant to make caramel corn tonight, too, but at this point in time, I’m going to finish this blog post and head for bed!
I’ll be the first to say it. This week has been weird. I got up at 9:00 this morning. It’s not late in the day. In fact, it’s a pretty normal wake-up time for me when I don’t have to be anywhere by ten. Yet, I woke up this morning, discovered it was 9 in the morning, and panic ensued. Why? I didn’t have to be at the Academy until noon. And yet, I was freaking out. Why?
I think I’ve developed a form of paranoia. I have to be somewhere or doing something ALL THE TIME. I’m sorry for shouting at you, but it’s the truth. My mind cannot rest for one single moment. It’s going to be the end of me. If it’s not homework, it’s my latest novel idea. If I’m not blogging, I’m reading a magazine. If I’m not taking notes on a movie, I’m writing a resume and cover letter. Has this what 5 years at the Academy has done to me?
I really hope not, or the real world work force is going to hate me. It might make me a manager, but everyone beneath my position will kill me and shoot daggers at me constantly with their eyes.
I do not want to be THAT boss.
On top of this paranoia that doesn’t seem to get away from me for more than three seconds, New Guy and I really got into it last night. As it’s turning out to be his style, the conversation started one way, and then suddenly veered off into another. He was genuinely mad at me for flirting with his Best Friend when he had clearly broken up with me two days beforehand. This flirting that upset him happened almost 2 weeks ago now. Since then, New Guy’s Best Friend and I have maybe texted twice, and it wasn’t anything dirty or racy or anything like that. New Guy just *blew* up on me.
Here’s the problem. This goes for all men. You can’t break up with us, and then get mad at us when we try to get back into the groove of single life again. I, myself, happen to be a flirtatious person. Especially when I think a guy is cute, and I’ve had a few alcoholic beverages in me. Granted, I’ll admit the mistake of flirting with his best friend. Probably not the smartest move in the book. But, regardless, I was single and New Guy knew that.
Yet, he blows up on me for doing it. Why? He finally gives an answer, albeit a vague answer, but he finally gave an indication of why he was upset. Because, he says, I have feelings for you. i wouldn’t be this upset over this if I didn’t.
Listen up, boys. You have to let the girl you’re interested in know what you’re feeling. Three months should be long enough to let your guard down enough to at least say how you’re feeling towards that person. You clearly don’t hate me, so tell me how much you like me. I’m not asking for the L-word. Not even remotely close to asking for the L-word. But you can let me know how much you like me. Otherwise what’s the point of continuing this charade?
It’s always going to be a war, isn’t it? Men versus women. Ladies versus gentlemen. Boys versus girls. Female versus male. Men are truly from Mars…and Women beautifully come from Venus.
Last night’s conversation/argument with New Guy is a prime example of how it takes years for our two genders to see eye to eye.
“Men and women can never be close. They can hardly speak to one another in the same language. But are compelled, forever, to try, and therefore even in defeat there is no peace.”
The lauded among literati, Margaret Drabble, has hit the nail on the head with her comment.
It’s nights like last night, and moments where New Guy mentioned maybe it’s not worth our time together, that makes me realize I only need three men in my life. Count’em. Three.
1.) My father
2.) My dog
3.) My brother/nephews/godsons
Okay, so that makes it more than three, but still, you get the point. Any male who isn’t family by blood? Yeah, I don’t need him. The only additional answer I might add is a Jedi Master. But there’s no guarantee my Master is going to be a male, so that’s why it’s an additional answer, not a guaranteed one.
If I could have one wish, one wish at all, it would be that whichever male happens to catch my eye in the next X amount of months, that he and I will be on the same page when it comes to dating and a relationship. You can’t ignore a person for 4 days and still claim to be dating them at this point in the budding relationship. It’s one thing if you’re long-term. Short term? A four-day silence is as good as a break up.
Guys, if you’ve fallen for a girl before, you know my words are true.
I’m going to leave everyone with one word: Canine. Man or woman, when we need a friend when everyone else is too busy messing up their own lives, if you have a canine for a friend, it’s not going anywhere. That canine will be your friend no matter what.
I miss my fluffy, sometimes too hyper, jumpy, sweet eyed canine friend.
She may act like a twelve-year-old hormonal human at times, but I’ll deal. She certainly doesn’t judge me. I’m not about to judge her.