He curled up in that spot at 8AM, as I was driving my daughter to school. He hasn’t moved from that nice warm blankie-covered spot in nearly 2 1/2 hours. So far, I’ve catered to him: breakfast, koolaid, toast with butter with the crusts cut off (of course).
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Okay, I’m done.
It’s over. Finished, kaput, fin.
I know I haven’t given you a blow-by-blow of the last month, so let me do that now.
He has called me every day, and asked for permission to call the next day.
He is in love, calls me his precious, his love, and tells me I’m more beautiful every time he sees me.
He wants to be married in a year, maybe.
I do not give my heart so easily. I like him. I appreciate his attentions, but am in no way shape or form in love. To be completely frank, the last time he told me I was beautiful I accused him of intoxication (In my defense, I’d been at work for 8 hours and was having one of those bloated uncomfortable “omg I’m a TROLL” days).
Neither am I ready to speak of marriage.
For a few brief moments, I felt badly that I didn’t return his sentiment. I do LIKE the guy, after all.
But.
Guilt is a horrible foundation for a relationship, and I did indeed feel guilty about not being as ready as he is to commit.
But.
Last night I tried again to explain to him that I felt as much, and found that it’s not about me, it’s about him. He kept kissing me and wouldn’t let me speak. I tried to push him away so I could speak, and he wouldn’t release me.
It’s frustrating enough with the language and cultural differences, but to think that kisses can change my mind is naive at best.
Week 253, Come mutter with me!
- Master :: pet
- Tour :: travel
- Input :: output
- Downtown :: Julie Brown
- Pricey :: restaurant
- Acceptable :: risk
- Terrace :: breakfast
- Sunday :: paper
- Payoff ::
- Jack and Jill :: hotdog stand
I crave your indulgence…
The end of the semester is upon me. Between now and December 11th, I must complete my portfolio, study for a 6-chapter cumulative exam, write a (minimum) 3 page paper, and um. There’s something else I’m forgetting…
At any rate, content will be even lighter than usual (did you think that was even possible?).
Kissykisses, and love each other!
A nugget of wisdom for you:
When deciding if the glass is half-full or half-empty
please check to make sure it is indeed your glass.
Unconscious Mutterings Week 252
No, I haven’t done all two hundred fifty-two of them. I probably should, though.
- Music :: classical
- Insanity :: isn’t just a diagnosis, it’s a way of life.
- Curtain :: call
- Nickname :: Tink
- Container :: flatbed
- Roast :: beep, beddy thing***
- Thong :: no. Just no.
- Purple :: people eater
- Holidays :: havoc
- Christmas tree :: tradition
***Once upon a time, I worked in a grocery store deli. I had one delightful customer with a heavily “non native speaker” accent come in once a week and that was how she placed her order (roast beef, very thin).
Is there anything more satisfying
than having to make a team presentation, and having the person who precedes you to present your information?
Yeah, I know.
Being a mom helps me be a better student
Picture, if you will, a child standing in front of a candy shop window, trying to make a choice.
Keep that picture in your mind as you watch an adult – the person in charge of whether or not you pass the class, as a matter of fact…
keep that picture in your mind as you listen to this person say “I want this paper to be 3-5 pages in length” and again as this person (no less than five minutes later, mind you) says “This paper should be ‘as long as it needs to be’”.
Yes, it’s incredibly frustrating. But do you stand up and scream “WILL YOU MAKE UP YOUR EFFING MIND ALREADY??!!??” at the kid in the shop window?
No. And neither should you scream it at the grown person standing before you. No matter how tempting it is.
Also? It’s better to drop the class and try again with a different professor than it is to “embrace the F” as I have in this one.
Do as I say, not as I do.