"Falling in love is like jumping off a really tall building; your head tells you, "Idiot, you're going to die" but your heart tells you, "Don't worry, pretty girl, you're going to fly"."

Good god, who am I?  Are you asking yourself that, because it wouldn't surprise me.  I mean, aren't I the woman who just wanted to get laid?  Who didn't want anything serious? Who would never, ever, in a million years, fall in love?

Several things could actually be happening:

1. Aliens have invaded my body and I'm no longer "Amy".  They want to procreate (sorry little aliens....wrong body) and take over our world.  At least we know Earth will be safe since I can't procreate.  Thank goodness, right?
2. I have died and this is some pretty fucked up version of my after-life.  Thanks. Thanks a lot. I find Mr. Wonderful after I've died?  Awesome. Just awesome.  
3. Relating to that, I'm in a coma in some hospital and this is my dream.  If that really is the case, leave me be.  I'm enjoying this entirely too much.
4. Or I may have actually met the right person at the right time and in the right circumstances and fate has finally seen to it to reward me for being such an amazing person.  

*sigh*

I am freaking terrified.  It's too good.  Nothing this good can actually be good for you, right?  I mean look at this:

What the hell is he doing with that?  

He tells me I'm beautiful all the time.  He says the most goddamn flattering things about me and I think, "Who are you talking about?"  I'll believe a compliment up to a certain point, but then I just gotta call bullshit.

And now - right now as I type this- I think, "He has to be lying. He has to be playing me for some stupid reason, who knows why. I'm too old to feel this way."

*sigh*

Have you ever waited for something for so long - given up hope, in fact - that when it's staring you in the face, you want to simultaneously run to it and run away from it so that you're basically just running in circles because you don't know what the hell to do?  That's me.  I'm getting dizzy.

Our weekend was damn-near perfect together.  We didn't see each other Sunday so I took the opportunity to journal (which I haven't done in eons because I have you, dear readers, but sometimes things can't be said "publicly" but still need to be documented, because, let's face it - this is epic).  I wondered what my future self would say to me now?  My gut reaction was "PROTECT YOURSELF".  Above all.  Enjoy the moment. Be open to whatever...but PROTECT YOURSELF.

This guy could either change my life for the oh-so-much-better.....or he could crush my soul, heart, my very being and I'll die.  It could go either way, thus, my initial reaction to PROTECT MYSELF.

I was in a better place after that.  I wasn't so crazy-in-love and had brought myself back to reality.

Then I visited a neighbor and gushed about him and while we were parting ways, she said (about her man), "Don't wait.  I'm 63 and I can't believe I waited so long for this.  I've maybe got another 20 years and THAT'S IT."  It hit me then.  I could die tomorrow.  He could die tomorrow.  WTF are we waiting for?  I do not want to die this close to something so goddamn amazing.  And boy, am I glad I didn't die all those other times I tried to die.

We didn't see each other on Sunday (he works Sun-Thurs) but texted and chatted and he asked if he could take me to lunch on Tuesday.  Who drives a two-hour-round-trip for an hour lunch with me?  Who?!? This guy:

And again, jesus, why can't I take a flattering picture ever?

Maybe he's the one who needs a lobotomy.  

He brought me flowers.  Flowers! And I meant to take a picture of them for you (because I left them at work so I have something pretty to gaze at) but I forgot.  Sorry.  Imagine a beautiful vase full of beautiful purple & orange flowers.  How could he even know those are my favorite colors?  Did he just get lucky? Probably.  But still....We didn't actually eat lunch...we just found a quiet spot, sat and talked.  It was the best damn lunch-hour I've had since starting there.  

He's meeting the parents Friday night.  I both hope I don't die of a heart attack before then and little bit hope I do.

"When I first saw you, I fell in love. Well, not LOVE love, but you smelled nice."

I keep saying, "I'm in trouble" over and over and over again.  I feel like I could throw up.  I have actually cried, which as you know, I despise.  I've laughed.  I've been so lost in thought or so discombobulated that I just wander around aimlessly.  My stomach isn't full of butterflies....it's full of the whole damn zoo.

I met someone, obviously.  We had lunch Thursday.  One hour together and I was pretty damn smitten. I was useless the rest of the day at work (well, not really, but I absolutely could not concentrate...I gave them $11.75/hr worth of work, which, apparently, is what they think I'm worth...bastards....but that's for another post).  One goddamn hour together.  One. It wasn't love at first sight, but damn close.

He came to my little hamlet yesterday after work and we talked.  We actually talked.  I did not take him directly to my bed....because this one I think is special.  Don't get me wrong; we ended up there, but not until after we talked...and talked some more...and then talked some more.

I can only remember one other time in my life when I felt this way.  It was with the man-boy I thought I was going to marry.  I've always said (since then) that I won't get married.  This one could change all that.  This one could change my entire world.  And that terrifies me.

Do you know what else terrifies me?  Not having this.

I gotta get my shit together. But how can I when he looks like this?

Chris

I may need a lobotomy.

"Almost 7 billion people on the planet and I can tolerate 5 at most."

The madness has begun....

Front of house

South side of house looking East

Ah hell, I'm not ready for this.  I've decided you almost have to be an exhibitionist this entire weekend, if only to keep an eye on your house.  Or, probably, be normal.  It makes me feel like an exhibitionist to even sit on my porch, so, ya know, maybe that's not the best word.  

My house looks great. My yard looks as good as it ever has (mostly because we haven't had any rain in two weeks so it's not growing....yeah!).  I'm in as good a mood as I'm going to ever be in when 30,000 people invade my little hamlet for 3 days.  And even if I have to yell at someone, I'll try to do it cheerfully.  

I did have a "I've had enough of this shit" moment at work this week.  Tuesday, in fact.  I was helping a client at the front, calling another attorney who was supposed to be meeting him at our office to find out where the hell he was (an hour late), and overheard two co-workers making snide remarks about me.  Can you imagine anyone ever making a snide remark about me?  I can't.  I really can't.  I mean, saying I'm a bitch; that's ok.  But just being snarky about me seems so petty and little and I can't wrap my head around it.  

So there I am, being happy and helpful with this client because I'd be damned if I was going to let him know their stupid shit bothered me, but as soon as he left.......Oh man.  

I didn't yell, but I was firm.  I said, "Ya know, it's really, really hard to stay positive and happy and cheerful with a client when all I hear is you two back here whispering (not subtly either) about me.  This shit needs to stop.  I've had enough of it and I won't tolerate any more of it."  To which one of them tried putting it back on me with, "Well, that's how I felt when it was you & _____", to which I responded, "THEN YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING THEN!!!"  And then I said something about 3 strikes, 'cause, ya know, that's my rule.  I give you 3 times to fuck up and then I'm done.  Done!  

Lol, 'cause I'm so damn tough.  What am I going to do? Never speak to this person again?  *head shake*  Nah, but next time, I will go directly to an attorney and I won't say a damn word to her.  

That place is the most toxic workplace I've ever been in.  

"Small businesses can less afford to have coworker complaints, negative offhand remarks and other fear-based behavior because those remarks have a bigger impact than at large companies."

This all happened right before lunch....minutes before....so I went on my merry way (shaking from that adrenaline rush) and didn't even eat my lunch.  I texted a friend.  Who made me laugh....which was just what I needed.  And when I got back to my office, I laughed some more because the dickhead was there and wasn't supposed to be and that just made my damn day (sarcasm).  Not only that, he was a dick not 10 minutes later. To me. Over the phone. I flipped off my phone.  Two fingered.  Such. A. Dick.

Then the retired attorney, who everybody loves, stopped in and asked me how things were going and I just looked at him.  I always wonder....do people really want to know or do they just expect a "Everything's perfect!" response?  I just said, "I'm trying to stay happy & smiley!"

Not 10 minutes after the retired attorney left, I got a call from dickhead (because god forbid he do it face-to-face, though I suppose this was a step forward)....apologizing.  He said he was going to email me but that was cowardly and he rambled on for awhile about apologizing.  Jesus.  How about just don't be a dick?  How about you try that? For one day!  Just ONE DAMN DAY!

*sigh*

I was so glad I took off Thursday-Sunday.  By Monday I should be in a better frame of mind....or I'll want to kill someone because the Walk will have driven me insane.  I could go either way.  

"Yes I was in love. But that was yesterday."

Finally! My period started today and I'm all like, "It's about damn time, bitch! I've been a raging bitch for the last week! Where have you been?"  Women's menstrual cycles do come in handy every once in a while.  "I'm not a bitch.  My period's coming...."

Ok, ok, I'm just a bitch.

I swear, work makes me into something/someone I do not want to be.  I don't want to be bitchy, pissy, angry, frustrated, rude, rolling my eyes so hard I can see my brain, muttering "fuckin' shut up" under my breath every two seconds, ready to smash someone over the head with a keyboard type of employee.

Where did my happy go?

Oh yeah, down the street to the new, fun, cool law firm.  Dammit.

However, I do think I might see some light at the end of this dark, dreary tunnel.  Maybe....just maybe.

And as for my dating situation, *sigh*.  Everything was fine until he got all ga-ga and then I'm like, "Whoa, there, slow down buddy.  I'm not your girlfriend. You're definitely not my boyfriend.  You're barely my friend. Just shut your mouth and kiss me.  No need to speak. At all. Ever. Again."

*eye roll*  Is it any wonder I'm forever-single? 'Cause I wanna be.

Saturday I baked? Cooked? a breakfast casserole (only one of many others) for the fire department who were roofing one of their own's house because he has MS and it's sad. He lives 20 steps from my house.  Anyway, Shan asked me to bake? cook? a breakfast casserole and after I asked her if she was sure she wanted to subject them to my cooking and she said yes, they're men, they'll eat anything, I obliged.  I have to say....while I didn't eat one single bite of it (I probably should have just to make sure it was actually edible), it looked and smelled damn good.  I told Shan not to tell me if they all hated it and dumped it all in the garbage.  I didn't want to know.  She brought my pan back...empty...so either it was good or some dog got a really tasty meal.  Whatever. That's not the point of this.  That same morning, I was over watering my neighbor's plants because they're in Louisiana having fun (while I'm not) and I thought....."Look at me being all helpful and neighborly. When the fuck did that happen?"

Oh and while I was doing my neighborly duty Friday night, the ex passed by on his motorcycle.  I waved before I saw who it was. I like to think, had I known it was him, I would have given him a middle finger salute.  Instead, I waved....like an idiot...because it made him think it was ok to stop to chat.  It wasn't. I didn't outright tell him to go fuck himself (I wish I had) but I was short with him because I don't have anything to say to him.  His face makes me want to punch it.  

When you wake up and feel no pain....you're probably dead.

Ugh, my body hurts!  To everybody older than I am currently, please don't tell me it only gets worse.  I don't want to know.  I want to live in my happy, unicorn-and-lolli-pop world where, eventually, I'll wake up and feel like I'm 20 again.

*eye roll*

So here's why, apparently, my back, forearms, wrists, sides - my entire torso, basically- hurts:

Giant stump Dad cut

Smaller stumps & concrete pavers

More. Just more.

It really wasn't all that bad with Dad's help on Saturday, but Friday night I got home and was rarin' to get to work so I dug the huge-stump-hole (which felt a bit like I was diggin to China) and then tried to move some pavers I had previously set (last year) to their new spots.  I dug one in.  I pulled two out.  I was dripping sweat like you wouldn't believe in what-felt-like 100% humidity and mid-80's temps.  

Have I mentioned I hate summer?  I do. I really, really do.

So Saturday, Dad brought his crowbar to lift the other pavers that were already set (SO. MUCH. EASIER!) and we dug more holes and laid move heavy things in them.  

That's why I'm sore.  It's a good sore, though.  Good.

Naw, I take that back.  Everything just hurts and I want it to stop.

As for other news, I did, in my own weird way, ask for a raise.  I simply asked the female attorney if they (both of them) had discussed any kind of pay increase.  She said they had.  I have no idea how much (not enough, I guarantee it) or when (not nearly soon enough), but supposedly it's coming.  Why didn't I ask??? Because I'm an idiot and I thought I would be better off winging it instead of properly thinking through what I was going to say, but when I do that, I forget things....and pretty important things, too.

*sigh*

So we'll see.  I'm not holding my breath.

Do you remember, when I first moved to this beautiful hamlet, a guy-neighbor invited me to watch the Steelers play each Sunday?  It was kind of like, "Hey! You like the Steelers, I like the Steelers, let's like them together!"  I would have been happy to, had he ever invited me after that initial "so you wanna?"  I was just confused.  Why invite me and then not really invite me?  What's that about?  So when he messaged me a couple of weeks ago and asked if I wanted to go on an actual date, I thought, "Progress!"  Apparently not.  He bailed the morning of because of "work".  I didn't respond.  I find the best response is no response...because what I want to say is, "You have no idea what you're missing...." and "You've got two strikes...one more flake and you're out!"  I may not even wait for another strike....he may be out already.

On a happier note, I get to see my new OKCupid crush today.  We've been texting all week; I've been ignoring all others; and I'm simply allowing myself to enjoy it....whatever it is.  Scary as hell.