Phased

Talking about work is stupid, I’m going to talk about the reason why I missed my doctor’s appointment today and why I’m breathlessly waiting for tomorrow*.

I’m a relatively introverted person. This is sometimes by choice, and sometimes by circumstance. Recovering from intense surgery that I still have to see a Physical Therapist because of only helps the introverted-ness. It gives me a good excuse for generally avoiding public places and people that I might otherwise have to interact with (you know, like, anyone outside of my house).

SO, Sunday my dearest little cousin, i.e. social-butterfly, who has a boyfriend and is always off interacting with the world, invited me to a going away party for one of her boyfriend’s friends that she is very happy to see leaving. As my cousin typically spends most of her time with her boyfriend and ignores me entirely, I eagerly agreed to go and looked fondly on this opportunity to spend quality time with her and to take my mind off my dwindling post-graduate existence.

An hour later she said she didn’t want to go anymore. I accepted my lonely fate, and began watching a youtube version of Pride and Prejudice.

Then my little cousin came to my house, instantly changed her mind about not going to the going away party, and in an hour we were at her boyfriend’s house, the scene of the hip “Par-tay”.

Imagine my surprise when I walked out on the patio and discovered that it was my cousin, me, and her boyfriend, his friend, and three of their friends who were all guys. I’m used to parties of two thirds girls. Or at least more than two girls.
Anyway, let’s just say, from then on out I had a constant chatting companions and before the night was over I had somehow given my number away to a guy I had known for the whole of 4 hours.

I know, it was an incredibly stupid move. You don’t just give your number to someone who asks for it! Not when they’re someone of the opposite sex that you can’t stop thinking about ever since they uttered that phrase “Hey, let me have your number.”

Which, to think of it, is an incredibly idiotic phrase to utter! Seriously? DEMANDING my number? What kind of rudeness was this? Why did I respond to this not with an “Excuse me? You’re requesting a way to keep in contact with me in that manner? I’m sorry, but I do not give my number to foolish mortals simply because they ask for it. You must earn the honor of being able to contact me.”

But, reflecting on it now, it’s probably good I didn’t use the phrase “foolish mortal” in public.

Anyhow, it’s been almost 48 hours since that momentary lapse in my guy defenses, and in the last two days I haven’t been able to sleep, my stomach won’t stop having this stupid “fluttering” feeling, I’ve written a confused poem and two ukulele songs, and I’ve forgotten and subsequently missed a doctor’s appointment.

I’m never talking to another guy again. I think I’m gonna go smash my phone with a hammer. That will solve all my problems.

Oh, and just so you know, I should have called this “Fazed”, but I like the spelling of its synonym, which means an entirely different thing, better. Plus it was the title for post I was composing right before this one that I deleted. Yeah. Okay.

Welcome to my life.

You now know even more about me that you may wish you never knew.

*The issue of breathlessness not explicitly mentioned here, however an insightful reader might deduce that it has something to do with waiting, “with bated breath”, as the old saying goes, for some sort of response from the male referred to in this highly emotional post.
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About writingcatherine

This started as a documentation of my adventures in Europe...but hey, life's an adventure in itself.
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