Tuesday, March 4, 2008


Confusion seems to be pretty much the only thing I am feeling these days.  I spent all day at work slaving over a filing that needed to be made - which filing was of course due yesterday. The partner who assigned me the wretched task assured me that the whole process would take no longer than three hours.  Diet Coke, he said emphatically, you will be done in time for lunch. Fast forward eight hours later and there I sat, in the same seat, still not done.  And still not having had eaten lunch.  Feeling utterly confused.

I rushed out of work to meet up with the Philosopher for dinner/drinks.  Shortly after my previous post about the confusion he was causing by toying with me, he made the best decision any man can make.  He asked me out.  Our meeting started out with the usual pleasantries - "hello, how are you, where you from, who you be with" etc, etc, blahpity-blah.   As our blood alcohol levels rose, so too did the fun quotient of our conversation.  By the time we were three glasses of wine deep, I had already convinced him to flash his very silly yet endearing tattoo (to the extent a tattoo can be endearing) and a sort of truth or dare (minus the dare) banter was exchanged.  We covered religion (he has none), drug use (he does none), 
and a few other things (that I don't recall).  It was fun.  And, alas, it was confusing.  

Which confusion begets further confusion - because why should a fun date be a source of confusion?  Probably because of the underlying confusion I feel about Certain Someone.  He and I had exchanged several emails yesterday trying to come to a mutual understanding about what the hell was going on between us.  And I thought that we had.  But then instead we spent the better part of the time since then not communicating at all, or being mad/sad/confused at each other.  

Will I ever reach an age or a place in my life where things just make sense and I know what to do and how to handle situations? 

I am starting to doubt it.

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