There's a man I see almost every morning who is striking. Tall, Dark and Handsome & he wears a quilted jacket. That would be the sum total of what I know of him.
Technically I know more, but I'd argue it's circumstantial. We board the same train every day, he stands at the same point on the platform every day, and when my eyes flicker over him as I stroll past him each morning I've learnt he looks grumpy and stern every single day. I've observed his lovely long legs and no wedding ring.
He's the type of man who I wonder if he'll prolong his gaze long enough to let me smile at him, and I wonder if he'd smile back. Not for any particular reason, but I think he has a lovely face so he must have a lovely smile too?!
This evening he was an unusual (for the return journey) but a welcome distraction. The Conversation with Mr Magic is getting closer which means I'm revisiting the vicious circle of "I can do it", "I can't do it", "I can do it", I don't want to do it", "I can do it", "I'll just leave it a little while longer ...". Distractions are thus required.
So, so far we have Mr Quilted Jacket at an ungodly hour on the station platform, the prospect of sighting Mr Daniel Craig on the Tube journey, and Mr Cute, Tall but has turned up trousers (I'll have to think of a better moniker!) to accompany me from the Tube to the office. The latter I like because he's cute and tall, so tall that even in heels I have to turn my head skywards to smile at him which in turn makes me feel very girly and then makes me laugh! Add to that the not-even-vaguely-unattractive boss and you see I've now got a thoroughfare of good looking men to distract me throughout the day away from Mr Magic.
This is a good thing, even if it does involve a quilted jacket :-)
Showing posts with label Mr Daniel Craig. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mr Daniel Craig. Show all posts
Friday, 5 March 2010
Wednesday, 3 February 2010
Swearing is apparently reserved for those who can't express themselves properly ... let me be one of those people
Fuck me! I've never been blown off before, and I mean in the theoretical sense! On Monday he's citing being too busy with training and cake baking this whole week he can only see me for lunch on Wednesday (essential background: apparently working from home last week when I invited him for a drink after work, and too busy baking cakes for a cake sale to see me after work this Friday which was my only other option) so two weeks have passed since I last saw him - as this isn't supposed to be an affair, it does seem a bit odd he's not champing at the bit to see me, given his professed passion for all things Hot Cockles.
It's not the end of the world, but bear with me here. This morning he sent me an early morning text message apologising but informing me that he can't meet me for lunch as he's ill and has to stay at home to go to the Doctors. So far, so fair ... until I called him to see how he'd gotten on, and how he was. Nothing unreasonable there (though note he didn't call when I was ill last week, though to be fair he did offer me a delivery of home made soup which never transpired, but to be fair again, I was out of the office which was a main contributory factor In the non-delivery). He's not ill, he has an ailment, an infection, one that did not stop him going to the gym this morning, but still, in my book that deserves a degree of sympathy.
It's Wednesday right? That's two days after Monday, the Monday he says he has too much on to see me ... and now he says actually it's ok, because he was planning on taking a few days off this week. For what, I've no idea, and at this moment, I care not one bit as it was not followed with 'Would you like to ...". I say cunt! Not to him (as that would be distasteful!) but I say it to you.
Now, I know how full my diary is, how he severely dislikes planning, how he says he wants to see me when time allows etc etc etc ... so it's not likely without a bit of planning that I will see him ... can you see why I'm getting bored?!! We're back to him being a spineless idiot, too concerned with piffling and paffling his way through conversations rather than acting like the grown man that he is. Is it really too much to expect him to make reference to rearranging, or to feeling a tiny bit of sorrow he won't be seeing me? Clearly, yes, and so be it.
I'm back to holding my head in my hands in despair, mentally resolving to move on but in reality feeling like the bottom has fallen out of my world. On the way home this evening I was as close to tears as I ever get, not because he'd blustered his way through keeping me at a distance, making it clear he won't be better until at least Monday (newsflash - I'm at a wedding this weekend, trade fair next week, not free until next Saturday but as he doesn't ask, he doesn't know), but because it's getting so clear to me that I need to have "The Conversation" with him.
I don't like being handled at all. I've accepted a middle ground with him, I don't object when he makes attempts to handle me, to manage my expectations in such a fashion, and nor do I accept them, but I have a threshold and he has just reached it. I almost feel proud it's gone over my normal three month mark, but really, I should have grown out of that by now so it's nothing to be proud of.
In case my obscene rant isn't quite clear enough; What a fucking idiot he is! Is he trying to play me? Who the fuck knows. I may love, in the most platonic sense, the man he is, and how he makes me feel, but as he is right now, he's not good enough. I have learnt from past mistakes, made it clear as I can that I want to see him, how I want to see him and he fails to respond in an acceptable fashion. So for now, I have no other way to describe him other than to say he is a cunt.
NB: If it wasn't for the second day in a row early morning encounter and then, as special bonus, an evening encounter on the tube with Mr Daniel Craig (no, not the real one, just a delectable man who conjures the 'emerging from the sea in tiny blue shorts' scene), I may have lost all faith in attractive men. For the record, that would be a disaster!!
It's not the end of the world, but bear with me here. This morning he sent me an early morning text message apologising but informing me that he can't meet me for lunch as he's ill and has to stay at home to go to the Doctors. So far, so fair ... until I called him to see how he'd gotten on, and how he was. Nothing unreasonable there (though note he didn't call when I was ill last week, though to be fair he did offer me a delivery of home made soup which never transpired, but to be fair again, I was out of the office which was a main contributory factor In the non-delivery). He's not ill, he has an ailment, an infection, one that did not stop him going to the gym this morning, but still, in my book that deserves a degree of sympathy.
It's Wednesday right? That's two days after Monday, the Monday he says he has too much on to see me ... and now he says actually it's ok, because he was planning on taking a few days off this week. For what, I've no idea, and at this moment, I care not one bit as it was not followed with 'Would you like to ...". I say cunt! Not to him (as that would be distasteful!) but I say it to you.
Now, I know how full my diary is, how he severely dislikes planning, how he says he wants to see me when time allows etc etc etc ... so it's not likely without a bit of planning that I will see him ... can you see why I'm getting bored?!! We're back to him being a spineless idiot, too concerned with piffling and paffling his way through conversations rather than acting like the grown man that he is. Is it really too much to expect him to make reference to rearranging, or to feeling a tiny bit of sorrow he won't be seeing me? Clearly, yes, and so be it.
I'm back to holding my head in my hands in despair, mentally resolving to move on but in reality feeling like the bottom has fallen out of my world. On the way home this evening I was as close to tears as I ever get, not because he'd blustered his way through keeping me at a distance, making it clear he won't be better until at least Monday (newsflash - I'm at a wedding this weekend, trade fair next week, not free until next Saturday but as he doesn't ask, he doesn't know), but because it's getting so clear to me that I need to have "The Conversation" with him.
I don't like being handled at all. I've accepted a middle ground with him, I don't object when he makes attempts to handle me, to manage my expectations in such a fashion, and nor do I accept them, but I have a threshold and he has just reached it. I almost feel proud it's gone over my normal three month mark, but really, I should have grown out of that by now so it's nothing to be proud of.
In case my obscene rant isn't quite clear enough; What a fucking idiot he is! Is he trying to play me? Who the fuck knows. I may love, in the most platonic sense, the man he is, and how he makes me feel, but as he is right now, he's not good enough. I have learnt from past mistakes, made it clear as I can that I want to see him, how I want to see him and he fails to respond in an acceptable fashion. So for now, I have no other way to describe him other than to say he is a cunt.
NB: If it wasn't for the second day in a row early morning encounter and then, as special bonus, an evening encounter on the tube with Mr Daniel Craig (no, not the real one, just a delectable man who conjures the 'emerging from the sea in tiny blue shorts' scene), I may have lost all faith in attractive men. For the record, that would be a disaster!!
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