I use up all your forgiveness. Only Bailey continually forgives me for calling him the wrong name (usually Buckley). He doesn't seem to mind. He doesn't even mind when I change the furniture around and he stumbles from one road block to the next (he is blind, remember).

My desk is overflowing with paper. It's coming in from all sides. A form for everything. But there doesn't seem to be one to tell me when it's time to go home. Work is actually interesting today. But I'm not sure when I'll be finished for....the day, anyway.

I broke one of my only rules in the Gish Likes A Guy book. I actually waited for some guy to give me a call, after I had called and left a message. I don't really know what I was thinking, other than the fact that I have precious little else to do, and that I kinda thought I could really dig him. All this, even though I kept insisting to everyone (including myself) that he was SO not my type (he really isn't). Nuts to that, though.

I shouldn't be down about it (and I guess I'm not really) because men wash up on the beach with startling regularity. Pilots, lawyers, scientists of all sorts. But they don't really hold my interest. I'm the one that likes to be caught off guard. Not the kind to watch someone come out of the water, with a resume in their hands, and all their good attributes that steam from my stereotypical mind of what pilots, lawyers and scientists should bear. yeah, something like that.

I'm really looking forward to quitting time today. I'm hoping a bunch of books I ordered are at the post office, and I am really looking forward to buying a new pack of socks. Cold feet and literature.

What more could a girl want?

Labels: 'North', Arctic, blah, men