Today was my 3rd day of trying to get up at a reasonable hour (aka morning). The last couple of days, my alarm goes off at 8:45 and again at 9:30, but I keep hitting the snooze button until well past 10 until I turn it off all together to get up closer to noon. Last night, I woke up every 2 hours thinking it was morning, and finally got out of bed just past 7. It was incredible! So this is what morning looks like!
I went to the gym and was really sluggish, but I shot around for half an hour (am hitting about 80% from just outside the key), and started Frankenstein while on the elliptical for 45 minutes.
I went downstairs to do some weights (I’m cleared for 5 lb bicep curls) when I ran into this guy I haven’t seen since last fall. He’s got curly hair and big blue eyes, kinda looks like that guy on Bones. He’s a massage therapist and he always looks at me like he’s watching the sun rise inside me. I don’t know how to explain it–kind of a senseless awe. He’d offered to show me around the last time I saw him, and I’d made some non-committal noises. This time, I saw him and his face lit up. I said hi, then beelined to the other side of the gym but he followed me over and was talking to me about how he hasn’t seen me around in a while. I told him I’d had surgery on my shoulder. I felt like a little kid, hopping from foot to foot, talking really fast, swinging my water bottle nervously, scared that he was going to ask me out again. I ended the conversation with something like, “I’ll be back on the court next month so I’ll see you then.” I went and did some lower back exercises but I noticed he was sticking close and watching me in the mirror, so I moved to do bicep curls, and he moved nearby to do shoulder presses. My instincts told me he was working up the nerve to say something, and my instincts said, “Oh shit.” So I only did one set, purposely ending while he was in the middle of his, then said, “Have a nice day!” taking a few steps towards the hallway leading to the locker room. “Oh,uh, what?” he said, stopping. “Have a nice day!” I said, inching a few more steps away.
“Oh yeah, you too. Hey, um, uh–”
“Bye!”
He was still kind of talking as I twirled and hurried off. I got my stuff together fast and took off before he could decide to stake out the locker room or something.
Sometimes I think I’m kind of a jerk. Do I use my shy awkwardness as a cover for my utter standoffishness? Once upon a time, I used to think, what’s the harm? You get to spend time and get to know someone new, and even if you’re not interested romantically, you make a new friend. But then I remember how terribly awkward I am at extricating myself from situations, especially when I worry about hurting someone’s feelings, and I think you know what? Fuck it. Why walk into something when you’re already planning ways to get out of it. It’s better to not get into it in the first place.