Monday, December 13, 2004

I used to go out to parties and stand around

Chocolate genius

Have you ever had this stuff? It's magically delicious, people. It should steal Lay's motto, because truly, no one can eat just one.

The one great thing about getting sick is the morning that you wake up and realize you're not sick anymore. The congestion and fogginess have not just declined, but actually dissipated altogether. I probably could have woken up yesterday with that feeling, except that I went a little too many rounds with Mr. Belvedere on Saturday night, and I'm not talking about that portly dude who decided to be a butler for a middle-class family. I thought drinking expensive vodka would be a good way to keep the drinking in check, since there's only so many drinks you can afford at $10 a pop. The stupidity of that rationale should be apparent to anyone who, in college, would start out with a few Sam Adams, and end the night with Milwaukee's Beast.

The bad part of my Sunday is that I had such a headache that I had to sit around and relive the events of the evening before, and that, of course, leads to my typical overanalysis. I know I should not do it, and yet, leave me to my own devices and it's impossible not to go in this direction. Give me some room, cut some rope. Give me just two minutes from under the microscope. Is it a girly thing? Or is it just a sign of someone with too much time on their hands? This is the flow of what went through my head yesterday:

  • I used to think nice guy was a personality free zone, but he really redeemed himself last night. And he cleans up nice.
  • Wait, am I interested in this guy?
  • Wait, do I like him because he showed signs of being interested in me?
  • At least three other women I know were swooning over him last night.
  • He's the quiet type. That means I'd have to make the effort if I wanted to see more of him.
  • When he asked me to dance, I should have said yes.
  • But I don't dance at parties where coworkers are present, so that would have been untrue to myself.
  • But I shouldn't have pushed him to dance with my friend. That was not smart.
  • But maybe it wasn't a bad move. I mean, my friend likes him. Maybe they would make a better couple.
  • He reminds me so much of my closest buddy that it's starting to disturb me.
  • Does this mean I have a thing for my buddy?
  • Wait, forget about my buddy, he's been my buddy forever, that's not going to change.
  • Hey, dumbass, maybe you forgot that you are actively looking at making a huge, momentous decision that will take you completely out of this area in less than six months? Nice guy will think you are a complete psycho if you tell him about that, and who wants to deal with all that uncertainty?
  • Yeah, and all those other women, it was like vultures circling around a carcass. You don't want to get caught up in all that shit.
  • Plus he probably doesn't even like you.
  • And oh my god, did you prevent him from hooking up with your friend? You should have encouraged that more. Don't be a hater!
  • For the love of all that is holy, please get off your ass and get some advil.

    Now that my head no longer hurts, and I'm no longer sick with the flu, I've conveniently pushed all of those parallel streams of thought into the back of my head. Whoever said avoidance is a bad way to deal with conflict can kiss my grits.

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