Monday Blahs and Blechs

Monday comes way too soon and I am cranky.  I instantly regret having stayed up to watch the very last second of the Oscars and having skimped on my much needed beauty sleep. 

And after having a a brief chat with a few ladies in the office about who looked fabulous and whose dress flopped and why on Earth George Clooney would cover up even one square inch of that face with a beard is beyond all of our comprehension, I take to my desk.  I feel like I am made of lead.

And my phone is instantly ringing.  Hello, Monday.

I answer as cheerfully as I possibly can.  No one is convinced. 

It's Mac. And he says something bossy and snarky that he intends to be funny, but isn't. I am not sure it's not funny because it is just not funny or if it's not funny because Monty Python would not even be funny this morning.

He asks if instead of Miami or NYC we could go to Clearwater and watch some Spring Training games. We could stay someplace nice and his broker could get us great seats behind the home dugout.  Asks which airport is easier for me, how early can I get out Friday, can I take Monday off.

This is going to be some first date.

And although I answer each of those questions honestly, it is not as though I am mentally packing my bag.  I am not clearing my appointments late Friday or all day Monday.  I am not at all convinced that Mac is not still all smoke and mirrors.

He sends a few texts during the day. Some of them cute, some of them annoying.  I get the sense he is trying to figure out who he needs to be with me.  So far the Sybil act is just confusing. 

And a few times, he suggests that I call him.  And he seems to mean it.  So I joke.

"Some of us actually have to produce something for a living."

And arrogant as ever, he says, "I provide guidance, leadership and insight, Liza." 

What does he think I do all day?  Deliver pizza?  I snark back. "I make shit happen."  And I add a little figure of a face with its tongue out.

He remarks that he thinks I have a big attitude and condescends that he thinks it's cute. A verbal pat on the head. Asswipe.

I decide to snuggle up with the kids for a little TV after dinner and turn in early.  No need to be available when Mac calls or texts. My patience and my fortitude are waning.