Remember when I mentioned breaking up with someone via text message? Well, the thing is, I'm apparently very bad at remaining broken up and so we may have gotten together to "talk" or "work things out" at some point. But when that happened, I started to have the same second thoughts I had had the first time around, which might make them third or fourth thoughts, but who's counting?
Basically, as I said, I ran into him on Friday night and it did not improve my life any. When I managed to check my myspace the following day (after returning to the office) I discovered a message. A drunk almost 4am myspace message. Apparently there is a new phone and a lack of phone number and I disappeared. I'm sometimes pretty good at disappearing. When I need to be.
In any case, I mulled it over, this message, and this relationship, and this current situation of me being way to busy to waste my time on a stupid, unhealthy relationship. I then wrote back. This time, friends, I reiterated the broken-off-ness of the relationship via the even classier myspace message. If you weren't patting me on the back last time for sheer classlessness, now is the time. Go on.
So, another day done, yesterday, and I went to visit Miss L before her departure to South America. We spent a few hours talking about life and love and such nonsense. Then I went to go pick up Miss J from the bar, only to discover that, since it is a holiday weekend, the bars were open later. I ended up leaving Miss J behind with Miss M and Miss R, wishing I had any desire to be out so I could actually spend some time with my friends.
I also read some from a book titled Bandbox. I started it a few weeks ago after having exhausted most other options lying around my house, but for the World is Flat and some text books nabbed from the upstairs neighbors' shambles when I was feeling particularly like doing a bit of self improvement. Then I tried to pretend like it was only 12:30 when I was going to sleep instead of 2:00am, hoping the sleep I would have would feel like more.
This morning the plan was to go to breakfast with Mr. AT, but when I talked to him at 7am, he was hoping for a bit more time to rest, having stayed up until 3am. At 8am, I had the brilliant idea to order breakfast for pickup and meet Mr. AT at the office and pick up a lovely Sandpiper breakfast on the way. He offered to pick it up while he was refilling the tank of the car, but I hadn't paid yet, so I told him we'd get it on the way to the airport. Of course, when we arrive at the lot for the Sandpiper, who else do I see heading straight for the restaurant than Mr. A? The recipient of a myspace re-break-up the day before. I lagged behind for a moment, then stealthily remained behind a beam instead of in the open. I then glanced over to see if he would notice, and of course he is seated at the table closest to the door, and of course he is sitting on the outside so he is sitting there within throwing distance (and I'll mention that I do throw like a girl). I turn away and send off my card to pay for the breakfast and Mr. AT comes in. So now, Mr. AT and I are chatting and laughing and waiting for my card to come back so we can head out, and I can't help but keep glancing over. It isn't my intention to ignore him, but I don't want to date him or sleep with him or get called in the middle of the night by him. So, he did not turn his head toward me, which prompted me to believe that my classy message was... well... very effective? Horrible? Heartless? Tactless?
Anyway, dropped Mr. AT at the airport, where we ate our breakfast and hugged goodbye. Now it is just me and Mr. Boss, who is at a meeting. Me, hanging out in the office, by myself and bored. Me checking my myspace sent messages and discovering that the break-up message was never read (thanks myspace, for making stalking so easy AND thorough) and deciding that I wasn't the big asshole after all. Me sitting alone and answering every election poll that comes through on our campaign lines. Me giving in and working in T-3 minutes.
Can you really just call a pollster "Election Research?" Really? What happens if I google that number... or call it? Hmmmm.