How’s that for a bad grammar title?
After the night of lasagne, massage, and quick-but-promising sex, Alan and I both agreed to see each other again.
I was a little torn on when to meet; the Friday we talked about, a family at my son’s school were having a fundraising party which is apparently a super fun time. But I also wanted to see Alan and it was the only night likely to work for him. I decided to stop by the party for an hour and meet him afterwards.
But then work exploded (the volcano is still spewing) and the last thing I wanted to do was go to a party. As it turned out, Alan’s work schedule shifted and he could no longer meet. I believed him, for what it’s worth. I worked late, went home, and worked from home even later. Continue reading