Yesterday, we had a half-day retreat for the office. I'll say it wasn't a complete disaster but it wasn't terribly useful either. But, I'd rather not spend my time fussing about work. I will fuss about something else instead...
After work, I went to yoga. I almost canceled but I was determined. I'm trying to get myself more fit. I'm trying to eat well, exercise more, etc. It's not a New Year's thing--as you know I've tried to start this yoga habit for over a month. I'm getting in the groove pretty well, though I'm going to the studio instead of keeping up my home practice. Anyway, on my way home from the metro, I had that empty feeling that I sometimes get when I haven't eaten enough. You really can't eat before yoga, but clearly, I hadn't eaten enough earlier in the day. Then again, I thought maybe I was just feeling tired and I would shake it off in class. After class started, I knew the problem was lack of calories. I managed to make it through the class, but skipped the most challenging variations and spend more time than usual in "child's pose." I ate plenty when I got home but I woke up this morning feeling stiff and a little ill. I really overdid it. Annoying!
You know what else is annoying? The NYE dude. I thought he was gone, that I'd never hear from him again--and that was really working for me. I have some issues. Issues. And one of them manifests itself in the hope that boys I really like disappear before things get complicated. This was happening and I was pleased. He was going to fade slowly into a pleasant memory of a crazy night and I could dispense with the annoying bits.
And then at 10:10pm on Sunday, he sent me a text. The text was a nothing, just "Hey, how was your weekend?" But I was stunned. And angry. The last time we'd talked, the conversation involved making weekend plans. I wanted to make an actual plan. He did not. The upshot was, "we'll do something this weekend, ok?" Ok. I was quite confident that I'd never hear from him again. I'll admit that I held a very faint hope that he would get in touch about the weekend. But when Friday rolled around and he was silent, I let it go. By Sunday, there was nothing to say or even think about. I was right, he was gone, and our chance encounter would become a pleasant memory.
What did I do? First, I texted my friends. They agreed--don't write back. So I didn't. We agreed that if he were to make a second contact, I could respond. He hasn't. And while this hasn't put him right at the front of my mind, it's much closer than I'd like. It's like I had him sitting way, way in the back in last row of the upper balcony. Then he moved down to the first mezzanine. Now he's sitting in the orchestra level, but all the way in the last row. Still much too close for comfort.
I want to text back. The thought of responding is plaguing me. But it's so impossible. I don't want to chide him--why should I be the police here? I don't want to be carefree, because what he didn't isn't cool. Then again, handled differently, it could've been good. Say he'd led with something apologectic--"sorry I didn't get in touch about the weekend. things got crazy. how are you?" That might have merited a response. Or maybe not.
Pele is angry at him, which is touching. She hates that he is trying to keep me on the hook. I hate it too, but I'm also flattered. I'm worth hooking. That isn't the worst thing ever.
Oh--I do have a question for the readers. I'm not saying I will, but if I were to send him a text, what should it say? I would love to hear your suggestions.
Grateful for: bait.