After the comment fest on the last post, I'm starting to feel sorry for Kyle. Poor guy—he didn't know that his every word was going to be dissected by internet strangers.
I didn't mention this, but last week when he told me he'd been on a date and I gave him a hard time about it, he explained that the date was with someone he'd already met and had been long planned. Also, he has a work schedule that makes it hard to meet during the week, so he hadn't attempted to schedule anything with me. To that I say, real life people should always trump internet strangers. He still probably shouldn't have mentioned the date to me, but that just shows that he's not smooth. And I like not smooth.
And what's this business about rejecting poor Kyle? There is no rejecting because there has been no accepting! Has he acted perfectly? No. Have I? No. He didn't follow through on making plans. I jumped to the conclusion that he'd moved on because he didn't follow through.
You might argue that our inability to communicate this early on in the game is a "bad sign."
Of course it is. But until we actually talk or meet, I don't see it as a particularly illuminating sign.
Then again, I haven't heard from him since yesterday, so that may have been the end of that. I have no interest in continuing to prompt him.
Boring. In fact, this whole non-saga is so boring I can barely stand to write it. I can't believe how much space I've devoted to someone I may NEVER MEET.
I declare a moratorium on all things Kyle until after we meet. If I ever do meet him, I promise to tell you about it.
I was a little grateful that my ultimate frisbee doubleheader was rained out on Sunday. But I was a little sad because I would have liked to play one game—but I was rather dreading playing two.
Instead, while I spent most of yesterday lazing around the house, I did work in the yard for a good long time, weeding our tiny jungle. I haven't even bothered to tell the condo-mates that I did the work. Whatever. It looks a little better out there, but I hope I didn't kill the ornamental tree I pruned (I had to, it was blocking our gate). Anyway, I'm a touch sore, so I count it as an official work out.
And, in just about an hour, I'll head out to row for the first time in many years. I'm nervous and excited. I hope it works out. If it does, this blog will get very boring because I will probably never date again.* And I REALLY won't care.
*No, I don't actually think that. My blog could never be boring.
Grateful for: first day jitters.
Drop me a line.