I am disgusted with myself.
And no, it is not because after I finished dinner last night I also finished a bag of pita chips and dip. Though, I was pretty sickened by that as well.
No, the reason for my self-loathing is that I recently had to admit I have a crush on one of our clients.
Now, Marie, the only other person in the world that knows about this crush, simply and rightly declared that it isn’t really a crush and merely just my body/mind reacting to boredom.
As there is not even a dark horse contender in my life right now I crossed my fingers that she was right.
When she suggested I try Match again, I rolled my eyes and left her office.
Instead, I chose to respond to one of the Republican’s recent text messages. That didn’t help much, though. I still thought about the client, only now I was wondering what the Client would think about the Republican. And, if after the Republican and I broke up would the Client comfort me. Tell me he didn’t like him all along and then admit to loving me?
Looking back on it, the plan to try to get something going with the Republican had an obvious and fatal flaw – if there was any there, there I wouldn’t be in my current predicament. I would have a crush on the Republican and not need a crush fix from the Client.
Meanwhile, I am one inappropriate thought about the Client away from substituting my crush-fix with a nicotine fix. I just hope this weekend brings with it some crush-worthy candidates so I don’t have to start smoking again.
Who knew crushes could be so addictive?