Post-long-weekend ramblings

I get to a certain point at work sometimes where I just find it impossible to knuckle down and actually do anything, you know? And I manage to waste more time reading other people's websites and obsessively checking my email than taking care of the things that pile up on my desk. I suppose, in some form, that's because I feel I can take care of the work-related stuff relatively easily. But mostly I think it's because I want to be entertained. I want the fun, the excitement, that comes from reading something funny, or getting that thrilling email from the new boy who's occupying my time, and my daydreams, and... *ahem* such.

But I managed this weekend to go without email for most of three whole days, which was rather an accomplishment, though it pales in comparison to walking on the moon, or other such legitimate deeds. Though there was text messaging. And, two too-brief phone conversations, which, devoted readers of my blog will be interested to know, is more than I ever got from f.i.b. I'm not giving this new boy any sort of a nickname, though. I have this weird creepy feeling that if I do that, it'll just disapate, you know? If I name it.

But we talk all the time about him coming up to visit me, and I really want that. As much as I want the spark that's there in our email and written conversations to be there in the flesh. So... we'll see.

In other news, random guy on the sidewalk called me this weekend to set up a date for this week. I have to remember to call him back. I told my mom about him -- couldn't really help not telling her, as she was in the car with me when he called -- and she was characteristically a little worried that he was some kind of crazy. I told her I didn't think it was any different than meeting someone in a bar, and to please have a little respect for my good sense, that I wasn't about to go running off to meet him in a dark alley somewhere, but would be careful. As I'll be if my latest email buddy comes to New York to visit. I'll be careful (no Star Wars quotes back, please), and will meet him at Paddy's or something, where I know folks and would feel comfortable asking for help if anything got out of hand. Which I hope it won't. And he doesn't know where I live, so there. I'm cautious.

Optimistic, but cautious. Cautiously optimistic. And grateful I don't have the cash to just get on a plane to go see him myself. This time, with this guy, I'll let him come to me. And hope for better results.