I am extraordinarily patient, provided I get my own way in the end.
— Margaret Thatcher
Oh my god. Tuesday night I could hardly wait for today. Because today is the day Pub Crawl Boy (I know – it’s totally romantic, isn’t it?) and I were meant to have drinks after work. He IMed me Tuesday night and we chatted and he asked when I was free this week. We settled on tonight at 6, at a place near where I work that, he says, has amazing mojitos, which he loves (and coincidentally, so do I). He said he couldn’t stay long but that he really wanted to see me.
Then I spent two days furiously texting and emailing Karen discussing what to wear. I shopped last night for three effing hours and tried on 22 pairs of pants and NONE of them fit me quite right. I hate shopping. Malls make me crazy, but I did it because I didn’t want to wear my favorite dress (even though it looks smashing) and appear to be trying too hard. So I came home with a super-cute shirt from Banana Republic, but decided this morning that it was too low cut to wear to work, so I chose another outfit. The pants are really too big for me, but they were the best of a rapidly diminishing set of options in my closet. But by the time I got to work, though, they were stretched out from sitting on the train, and I didn’t feel confident anymore.
So I ditched work at 11 and walked 6 blocks in 95-degree weather to H&M, where I tried on 9 more pairs of pants and finally came up with a pair that were ok, and definitely better than the ones I had on, except that they were way too long. Luckily, though, I am so resourceful (and apparently careless with my employer’s time) that I stopped by CVS on the way back to work and picked up a sewing kit, and then locked myself in my office where I promptly cut off the cuffs of the pants did a quick whip stitch to get them to the right length. Have we not already established that I am a bit crazy? Yes? Ok, then.
So I was all set – I had brought make-up to touch up before leaving the office, and I was going to change just before I left for the bar. Around 3, I thought to check my gmail again, just in case, and there was the email I had feared I would get – he had to bail, he said, and he was sorry, but he hoped next week would work. My heart dropped. I didn’t know what to feel. Because he didn’t explain, my immediate reaction was, he’s having second thoughts. But then I reminded myself about the things he’s said so far, and I decided to trust the universe and see what happens. I emailed back: That’s disappointing; I was looking forward to seeing you. I hope everything’s ok. Let’s talk soon about next week. Almost immediately, he replied: Yeah, it sucks. I just have to finish this report for work today. Believe me, I’d definitely rather be drinking mojitos with you at 6 today.
So there you go. I have to wait til next week to see him, but he still wants to see me, and that’s what’s important, right? Patience, as I’ve told you, is really not my strong suit. And as much of an optimist as I am generally, I often have a hard time believing that new people I meet who act friendly really do like me, so my first instinct was to assume that he had changed his mind about me. I’m trying to remember that I know very little about what his life is like, and how busy his job is, and the only thing I can do is trust him and hope for the best.
And in a way, maybe it’s better – I ordered 7 pairs of pants online today, and they’ll get here before I see him again – maybe the perfect pair will be among them!