The universe is still conspiring . . . and I'm currently experiencing some anxiety about it. Not too much, could just be that I need some breakfast.
Why is it that when you really, really like someone, they want nothing to do with you? And when you are kind of eh, I might sorta like you . . . well, then they really, really like you . . .
Wrong time, wrong place, wrong emotional level . . .
And I just wanna find my lobster. And he isn't it.
I don't think anyway . . .
(and then there is the sinking feeling . . . shit, what if he is? No, he's not. But what if he is? But he is not, although he is the nicest man in the world . . . and so it goes . . .)
And I'm not sure that he even likes me. Just a scenario I'm playing with in my head.
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4 comments:
Don't feed the chickens before they hatch...or something like that. Look out the window and enjoy the ride!
Yeah, I'm getting carsick . . . so I might want to stop to throw up. And there are no chickens in this situation.
Oh, think of what a mess it would be with the addition of chickens.
bloggeroo...me says better a shag in the real then a shag in the make believe...quit wondering about if and seduce the nice guy..maybe he is tonythetiger after all and wouldnt that be nice, indeed?
The management of this blog would like to point out that both the mother and the father of the individual writing this blog are frequent readers . . .
With that being said, and the author being 35 years of age, well, yeah . . . still too nice. Kinda of the problem, the niceness. So there is no "if". And it has been requested that there be no when . . . something about messing things up.
And I don't get the tonythetiger thing at all. Because he's grrreat?
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