I had a good weekend. Kind of. Mixed. It’s been unsettling.
Saturday night I had dinner with Ginny, which was great.
Saturday morning I took my car mechanic (he actually owns the place) out for breakfast. I spent the day in his shop talking with him about everything from Battlestar Galactica, to World War 1 and 2, to the Bible, to interest rates. He’s a nice guy, interesting. He rotated my tires, changed the oil and filter, checked my transmission fluid, recharged my air conditioning and replaced the brake pads *and* rotors. For free. No, sorry, for the promise of dinner. That I make him. I wish I felt even a small smidgen of attraction for him, but I got nothing. Zip.
I asked him to please let me pay, but he refused saying, “I know you are a proud, independent woman who likes to do for herself, but tough. I’m going to put you under my manly thumb and have you make me dinner.” Honestly I just don’t know what to do with that. It exhausts me. I feel like I’m seeing sexual oppression/exploitation everywhere – shades of invasion of the body snatchers – pointing and freaked out. Should I just be flattered? Between him and my boss, I just feel gross. But hey – free car repair! And I’m sure I’ve been a whore for less…
As soon as Darth’s project is free and clear of my boss, I am going to start actively looking for a new job. Three months. It probably won’t be as cool or fun, but I’m at my wits end, And then that will be the final break from Darth. No more seeing his name in my inbox. No more Tuesday meeting. Can I call in sick tomorrow? Fake my death?
I broke down yesterday morning, had a major lapse in judgement over him. Where is Lacuna Inc. when I need them? I emailed him and told him I loved him. Because I hate holding it in. And I’m a moron. I’m just standing here, holding my heart out. Inevitably the crows start eating it right out of my hands, but I’m just too stupid to do anything. Why did he have to tell me he loved me?
*sigh with face palm*
I’m going to bed early.
daily
today