Work continues to be excruciatingly boring. Things are always slow in the summer, but my desk is abominably slow that the mo. I have actually considered requesting more duties, but then I kind of regained my senses.
I went straight home tonight. I knew I had to do something to the house since Rodney is meeting me here tomorrow to go to supper. I had noticed last night that the house is looking distinctly squiffy, and I can’t have him seeing the place looking so bad. I was glad for the few things I did this weekend. I had a really hard time getting motivated, but eventually I got started.
I fluffed the living room and vacuumed all the carpets. I flicked a duster at a couple of things. The bathroom, blessedly, is already clean at this point. Since I had been so good, I let the laundry go and skipped doing the front porch, which is looking distinctly neglected. But the inside of the house looks pretty good. And he’s not coming to see the porch, right?
Although it will be good to see Rodney, I am a little worried about the possible sexual connotations of a dinner date. It’s not that I don’t like him, I do, but it does add a layer of complication when you have sex with a friend. I don’t feel like I have a lot to offer as a partner at the moment, and while I feel that it wouldn’t be fair to have sex with Rodney without having the whole health talk beforehand, at the same time I really don’t want to talk about impending tests and stuff all evening. What to do? Sigh. I don’t want to be a downer, but I don’t want him to feel rejected either. It looks like I’m going to just wing it, and it is so unlike me to be going in without a game plan. I’m likely to make quite a mess of it.
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