Okay...so it's on. Well, possibly on. Maybe on.
The old group of friends including the new mechanic.
So that we can get to know each other.
And I cannot begin to tell you the headache this has been. So, I said to my friend Leslie, watch us hate each other. Watch him hate me.
Anyway, it's maybe tomorrow night. Tuesday night dinner out. Not in. Not at Leslie's. But out on the town. Meeting him.
(I too am fatigued by the short sentences, but it correctly displays the way thoughts bounce around for me about this particular subject.)
He has one more chance to back out...tomorrow. Or two. Just not showing up.
And it's okay. I mean, it could even be a relief.
I'm fine on my own. Fine with the amount of friends that I have already. Fine.
And yet searching.
And so today, I opened up the pink box of fortune cookies (I keep them on hand for special occasions, sporadic fortune tellings or just random sweetness with oranges). I broke the cookie in two, and it said this on the tiny white slip of paper...
Someone is thinking about you.
(and I have to admit, just to you, that it, well...it felt a little magical.)