If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn’t. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn’t be. And what it wouldn’t be, it would. You see?
Some of you are probably tired of the play by play coming into the weekend, I know I am. But, now I’m addicted to blogging, so I can’t very well stop.
Despite now having 6 ads going, I’m getting nowhere on CL. Utter silence, even the spambots have found other spambots to shack up with and raise the next generation of the w4m section with a few illegitmate Nigerian princes thrown in. I figure, I’ll install Tinder tomorrow and create a profile, see where it takes me.
I’m sure I could arrange something with Anne, but I just can’t get Sierra out of my mind, the two nights I had with her last time my wife was gone… they were my high water mark, where the wave crashed and receded, and I want to get back there. Perhaps reaching for the stars is the wrong idea when I’m sure I could arrange something with Anne, but that’s how I’m feeling at the moment.
I haven’t heard a peep out of Sierra for almost three days. What, the heck, I figured I’d text her this afternoon. I had to take my car into the shop for a tidbit of damage endured during some joyriding with a certain someone. I’d gotten a ride back to work with a coworker. I figured, maybe I need to get back to basics with Sierra, which means, expect the unexpected. I had only to imagine I was at the Mad Hatter’s tea party. So, the few texts I had felt sure she’d respond to earlier in the week, she’d ignored, so this afternoon I went ahead and asked her if she’d give me a ride to my car after work, expecting no response. To which she responds asking if my coworker had found the notes she’d left (she has mentioned these notes a few times, I’m starting to get a bit worried they might be real). She called and we talked a bit.
It was well into the afternoon, but she told me she’d slept in and missed her final because she felt shitty and tired. She didn’t seem to want to say why, but was insistent that I try to hack her grades. I’ve stopped trying to determine if she is serious or not about anything. We got back to the car thing, she said she’d give me a ride and we hung up.
Time eventually came for her to pick me up, she was ten minutes late, but sent me another text “Can I feed them to you another day? I’m sorry I literally can’t get out of bed.” Gosh, so much back and forth with this girl, so I call her this time. We have a discussion on the use of “literally” vs “metaphorically” which digresses into a discussion of “irony.”
“What do you think about having a second kid?” She asked.
“Why, do you have something to tell me?” I remember the first time she tried to scare me, she was telling me what colors she wanted me to paint the nursery in 9 months, I saw it coming this time (which reminded me of what an idiot I am for cumming inside this pathological liar even with her IUD).
“…weeell, yes… I did my eyebrows too big.”
“I suppose that is forgivable.”
“Yeah, they look bushy.”
“I hear that look is coming back.”
It goes on and on like that for a while, typical Sierra conversation, we don’t nail down any concrete plans for the weekend before we both need to get going. I had to catch a coworker to nab a ride before everyone left for the day.
So, going into the weekend, I haven’t a clue what is going to happen. I really would like to see Sierra, but can I count on it? Looks like I don’t have any other leads at the moment. All I know about Sierra is that nothing is what it is, because everything is what it isn’t.