With immaculate timing, the Love Interest, who I haven't heard from for a month, calls just as I'm getting ready to go out and meet a hot date. Despite everything, it puts a dampener on proceedings: you see, I still have Feelings. Groan.
So the hot date is not so hot, but after all I do get to see and play with the Love Interest the very next day, and very pleasant it is too.
I have to wonder whether my phone is bugged. The timing was just bizarre.
The other flaccid internet interests I have recede rapidly into the background. My loss, I dare say.
I also have to wonder whether the Love Interest simply got in touch as they were feeling a bit suddenly horny. Who knows, I shan't waste brain activity pondering on the subject. It was fun and I'm sure it will happen again.
This week is better than last. I haven't even been rude to my fellow motorists. Tomorrow will be the test for that. I live in an area with a rich motoring history. Landmarks to speed are all about: Maclaren, Aston Martin, Caterham, yet here there are the slowest most fucking frustrating roads in the whole of the UK.
Tonight I got a follow-up text message from the Hot Date (who I've known for several years). In essence it said "Shame we no longer click. Have a happy life". Which meant, shame you didn't shag me, I'll be in touch next time I'm in the bath naked. My stomach lurched at the sensation of being chucked, and about 2 minutes later, I'd forgotten, happily impervious as quite honestly I didn't really care. They were so frankly desperate they were a turn off anyhow.
I have things in the pipeline: just thought I would mention. This time next week I will know how things have panned out.
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