Ridin' Solo

Don't get your panties in a wad. I didn't call or text him. Well, not until Monday. It was kind of like the urge to poke a sleeping bear...or push people down stairs...or microwave tinfoil--you just WANT to do it but you don't really know why. In this case I did have a somewhat viable reason to contact him. I left my favorite Holister jacket in Vegas Boy's car and I wanted it back REALLY bad (I got it on clearance which added to the sting of its possible loss). My text was witty but to the point...he could have taken it several different ways which was my master plan. What he writes back will speak volumes about his mindset over these last 3 days of silence. His response (drum roll please), "OK. I will mail it tomorrow." Wow! He clearly wants me back. That simple text of 6 words is practically oozing with sexual innuendo and wanton undertones. I am so ecstatic that my heart is racing, I am flushed, and I think I am even starting to sweat a little. Oh wait....I am having an allergic reaction to the expired Prozac I found in my medicine cabinet last night. Great. 

Okay. New plan. I am going to work my ass off and get in the best shape of my life for my upcoming cruise to Mexico. I hadn't even thought of the many possibilities this cruise could offer if I were single and looking. Ridin' solo might be fantastic! My willpower has been renewed. The cruise is only 3 weeks away. I am bound to think of Vegas Boy less and less each passing day...and by the time I get back from the cruise he will be but a distant memory. In theory this sounds like it might work. Of course my past experience is telling me that I am going to crash and burn, make a fool out of myself, and sustain some sort of debilitating physical injury...but at least I will look good