Much Ado About Nothing

Okay, quick update: he came, he saw, he conquered.

Meh, not really.

Last night, I got kinda nervous about the possibility of seeing him today. What would I do, what would I say? Would the smug and blatantly delighted look on my face give the game away that I knew he had been unceremoniously DUMPED? (There could have been a ceremony, involving bonfires and photographs and possibly pubic hair... I was about to say there should be a ceremony but the pubic hair thing put me off.)

But I digress.

I channeled all my nervous energy into deciding what to wear. Despite the fact that I had already ironed a perfectly cute outfit, including a little belted pleated skirt, before I even knew Alfie could be hitting up my workplace. But everything about Alfie makes me doubt myself and makes me feel not good enough, so naturally this informs my decision making skills re: fashion. This is how I found myself hand washing three garments in the bathroom sink at 11 o'clock last night. I left them to drip dry in the shower, and funnily enough they were still soaking wet less than 12 hours later. So I turned the heating up real high and draped them artistically over the radiators. I decided on the blue dress (again, it's my dress of the moment) and my new boots, and went to work feeling physically ill at the prospect of an encounter.

He came in about half three. I was answering the telephone as he walked past, and he mimicked my greeting. Then he went into the staff room, and I went up to the second floor.

The End.

So not worth the effort. But you know it had to be done!