Am feeling v. self-satisfied and quite proud of self for unprecedented display of restraint. Last night, being Wednesday, and night usually set aside for watching favorite movie with J, could not help but be excited when phone rang around 8. Have special ring on cell phone so, if is J, know right away.
J: Hey. What are you up to?
H: Eating very irresponsible and bad-for-me dinner. You?
J. Making spaghetti. Do you want to come over? B's not home....
H: Hmmm....(many, many thoughts going through head like, 'Do I accept and play into this sick, sad game like I want to?') Actually, I think I'm just going to stay in tonight. I'm kind of tired.
J: Oh. Um. Ok. That's fine. I mean, that's more than fine. I guess I'm tired, too. I just told you I'd call, so I am.
H: You did? When?
J: I don't know. Maybe I just thought I did. Well, ok...
H: I'll let you get back to your spaghetti. Talk to you tomorrow.
J: Sure. I'll be around.
Went to bed early, and so as not to make too many steps toward healing from fuckwit separation anxiety, slept in Js sweatshirt. Again. Am pathetic. Proud and pathetic. Quite the combination.
***and now, kids***
Have been blessed by the gods and am being sent home from work by Suddenly-Generous Boss. Perhaps SGB cannot stand any more of the sniffling or blind groping for tissue box. But am a bit alarmed by generosity, must say. Will be fired, am certain. Have been told to take day off tomorrow as well. Which is better for me, as have been planning to do so for weeks in order to head down to the City for fun-filled weekend with gal-pal and Complete Strangers. Complete Stranger side of equation has this fish feeling apprehensive. Or could be over-the-counter cold medecine making fluttery sensation in chest cavity. Am inclined to think it is the latter.
Am headed home to climb into bed. What am not sure of is whether will put on warm, fuzzy, fuckwit sweatshirt before doing so. Sigh. Fuckwit.