Home > Romance/Relationships > Entry 04/18/2010 10:40:29 PM – Mentat 567

Entry 04/18/2010 10:40:29 PM – Mentat 567

04/19/2010
 

     Waking up this evening, I was greeted with one of those sort of gray, overcast sort of evenings, with the temperatures somewhere between raw and balmy, and the first impression that I got as I stepped out of the shower and had the sketchy feeling of consciousness was to want to sit on a porch with a cup of coffee in hand and watch the waning light outside.  The sort of feeling that comes with wanting to do absolutely nothing for the day and just listen to old-time big band/swing/soul while the rest of the world just passes on by.  Pity though that this is my Tuesday and I’ve already called in twice (out of my four days unscheduled-PTO) else I would’ve been sitting there on the porch and enjoying the self-induced lethargy. 

     I’ve been thinking a little about what I’ve said yesterday, and unfortunately my boss isn’t in this week (either), which means that I’m going to have to write him an e-mail tendering my resignation from this place.  As I said yesterday, it’s time to move on and what I’ve been doing the last six months is well outside of the scope of what I had originally come in on to do.  I could consider transferring within the company — but the problem is that this satellite office only deals with Tech Support and Regional Sales.  Definitely not a sales person, so that’s out.  I could transfer to the SOC/NOC, but the problem with that is that they’re in West Warwick and that’s not an easy location to get to by bus and bike and is basically about 5 miles farther down the road than when I was working at Care New England/Kent County Hospital.  Call me lazy, but I do like not being on the bus 2 or more hours a day (each way) to get to work.  Yes, I got spoiled working only 8 miles away and want about the same the next time around. 

     But this is something that I’m going to cover in the future. 

 

[Last Edited: 04/19/2010 03:24:06 AM]

 

     All right so the tidbit of information that I really didn’t talk about yesterday and I really should have deals with the ongoing confusion in the way that men seem to work here in the Tundras of New England — particularly when it comes to the whole animal (read: alien) of dating.  So the continuing story of trying to get the date goes as follows:

     I work up the courage to make the call, and end up getting someone woman name Ariel’s voicemail (goes directly in, because the phone was shut off).  Left an e-mail with the man stating I had called and asked who Ariel was.

     I received a response back the next day with a corrected number, and that the last digit was off (thanks to a 10-key data entry error).

     All right, I thought.  Easy enough mistake — I do that as well, given that I rarely call my own cell phone.

     The next week was the drama with the uncle, the headaches and the bullshit with work and my not wanting to get on the phone and deal with the feeling that I was going to have to make more small talk than I wanted to handle, so I blew off making the call. 

     Got a sort of passive-aggressive e-mail from him making some comment about losing interest, which I responded politely and admitted it was an issue with family and lack of gumption, and promised in my non-committal way that I’ll call him on my next weekend. 

     Gave a call on Thursday after having enough coffee and being in a good enough mood to want to talk more than making making a date for someplace in the middle of Boston that I’m going to have pilgrimage to. 

     All right, I got an voicemail again, but at least time I seem to have gotten a voicemail that sounded like a man and I think that his name was Bruce…  But I couldn’t rightly be sure, as it sounded like I was listening to someone speaking with a gravel quarry in his mouth. 

     Sometime the next morning, I was rewarded with an e-mail from the man stating that he had gone to bed early (probably because he had to work early — as I saw a response from him before on Friday at 4:30 or so in the morning.  Tells me that I need to call on the weekend at it’s the best time…

     Hmmm..  Now at about this point, I’m looking at the screen and asking myself the classic question of "really?" 

     All of this actually calling and getting an e-mail from him in response instead of a call back is sort of a let down and really beginning to feel like work.  And not the kind of work that I really want to do.  Particularly when I cut it down as follows:

 

     Write him back complimenting him and agreeing to a coffee date only to:

 

  1. Set the date
    1. Getting the e-mail response of "any day’s good"
  1. Set the time
    1. Getting the e-mail response of "any time’s good"
  1. Apparently having to set the place (in spite of the fact the man’s lived in the metro-Boston area longer than I have the entire New England area)
    1. Getting an e-mail asking me to call to make arrangements with a wrong number and getting that corrected 2 days later.
  1. Make the call and leave voicemail
    1. Get an e-mail back as response asking me to call again on the weekend.

 

     So by this point of getting the e-mail as a response to actually calling and actually knowing I said my number slow enough for even someone struggling with a  pen that doesn’t work properly the first time through to write down the number, I’m asking myself, "what exactly was the point of suggesting I call complete with phone number if every response I get from the individual is going to be in e-mail?" 

     I mean really, this could’ve easily be held the entire time in e-mail and the two of us could spend time getting to know each other in writing while working toward getting together for coffee.  Win/win I say. 

     And yet there I go again on my own rather common sense sort of ramblings, thinking of how things should be in the world instead of how they actually are. 

     But no, the coup d’état comes the very next day when going through my e-mails at the various locations, I come across another e-mail from the man asking whether I had called him on Saturday.

     Having no time to respond to it as I was already running late for work and wanted at least 15 minutes prior to sitting down at my desk and getting things organized, instead of the usual run to my desk like a mad ostrich and trying to log into everything in less than 30 seconds like every other New Englander here does with a system that takes 5 minutes to actually log into, I did have enough time though to stew over that final e-mail.  And my stewing wasn’t exactly pretty. 

     Still though I do sort of pat myself on the back realizing how civil and polite I had been, simply explaining that it’s not my habit to call and hang up if I got someone else’s voicemail.  If I call, I’m guaranteed to leave a message.  However, at this point I’m feeling as though this is more work than it’s actually worth, particularly given that this could’ve happily been handled entirely in writing instead of this one-sided telephone tag leaving me feeling as though I’m the top in a non-existent non-relationship and he’s expecting me to answer at his beck and call on rules that simply didn’t make sense to me.

     I wished him luck in whatever he was looking for, and simply said to him it’s probably in each other’s best interest to stop whatever isn’t happening.

 

    Fortunately for me, I haven’t gotten a response back from him; and hopefully it won’t be like the bullshit that I went through around my birthday last year (Entry Mentat 516: http://mbaldelli.deviantart.com/journal/25361839/) and I honestly think at least this one has some manners. 

     Still though…  Really??  All this rush for a phone call and only to ending up answering calls in e-mail?  Send out a confusing message much? 

 

     *smiles and shaking head* Makes no sense to me whatsoever, and sometimes it leaves me wonder all sorts of other questions and ponderings.  Like are we as a community that damaged by our experiences of bar-life that as we reach the middle-age of our lives we don’t know how to properly act without completely acting bat-shit crazy or damaged?  Like in the 40+ years since Stonewall, whether our want to re-inventing the dating wheel hasn’t turned time-honored traditions into completely dysfunctional trash? And then again there’s the usual questions I’ve been positing in the 30 or so years as to the confusion between sex, dating, and relationships… 

     Eh, it’s been all said before and I’m not in the mood to rehash.  The only thing that I have to say on this at the moment is. I’ll keep trying…  Hopefully someone won’t act like a complete flake in the process. 

 

     Well, that’s about it for the time being…  I’ve said everything that I needed to say at the moment.  Until the next time.

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Categories: Romance/Relationships
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