I have a really bad habit of giving up on my little blog, only to return to it when I feel like I have too much on my mind. This blog was always meant to help me sort out the mass of thoughts and ideas in my head on the fast-track out. But, dare I say it, sometimes I find myself too lazy or too annoyed to even log on and...release.
I have been busy lately. Not so much with important things - I'm talking tanning, work, and spending time with the dog - but I have been busy nonetheless. I more or less got bored with Mr. Chef. It's not that he did anything wrong. It's that he lost his shine. We had one awkward kiss where I didn't even feel the need to close my eyes and I pulled back after that. I don't want to waste my time on anything that's not special. I still think he's sweet and all. But I'm not sure he lights my fire.
Mr. Caesar on the other hand...he adds hot coals to a slow burning fire. It's a delicate situation though. I met him at his place of work about a month ago. I thought he was cute and he has an infectious laugh. An adorable, infectious laugh. I continue to see him at his place of work but he is very good at remaining professional, which I respect very much. I channeled my inner-creeper and messaged him on facebook. He gave me his number and voila! two days later he wanted to hang out. This was good and bad.
We met up and he took me to lunch as a cute little restaurant on the water. We got to know each other a little better. Then he asked if I'd like to go up by his place (a little ways away from me) and take a walk on the beach. It was early afternoon so I agreed. He showed me his place. Then we walked along the beach in 95 degree weather. The problem with wearing jeans and a little tank top whilst walking on the beach in pure humidity after consuming very little to eat for lunch for fear of looking like a complete fatass is that you begin to feel faint. Light-headed and sweaty on a first...date, we will call it is not really fun. I ended up pretending like I wanted to have a seat on a rock under the shade. Really I was waiting for the ringing in my ears and the nausea to subside. When I felt that I was in the clear, I pulled my swampy-ass up off the rock and walked with him - at a safe distance for fear of BO - back to his place. He still wanted to hang out for a bit. I should have declined.
But I have never been the brightest. I had boob sweat. BOOB SWEAT! It is time to go home and take a shower when this occurs, or at least take a shower with Mr. Caesar. But no, I sat with him on his bed. I am sure my deodorant had begun to fail and my make-up had long ago melted off. Hindsight is always 20/20, right?! However, he at least pretended to be unfazed by my disgusting state. He said "Haven't you ever gotten really sweaty during sex?" After this, my mind was playing images of him naked and sweaty on top of me. These images still play in my mind.
I texted him a couple times this past week and I have seen him at work but I have decided to wait and see if he initiates. I know he works a lot, but he can text me if he wants.
I will play a little bit harder to get.
Because after all, I am not easily gotten.