Stood Up Again

In the time it took me to set up this blog, I've been stood up again.  I suppose I haven't completely been stood up, as it's not like we had a completely confirmed date.  But that's what I struggle with today, in this world of e-mail and cell phones and text messaging: when is a date confirmed?  The Paralegal and I had talked on the phone, and agreed to cross paths tonight, on Friday.  We didn't set a time, nor did we talk about what it was we were going to do.  I figure as the week goes on, we can hammer out those details.

It's not like we're not in touch much.  He texts me when he gets up in the morning, at 5:30 a.m., before he heads to the gym.  I'm usually at the gym by then, so as most people are still in entering their final R.E.M. Cycle, we've already had a conversation about the weather and our dreams.  Oh, and an exchange of how handsome we think each other is.  The banter continues through the day.

So on Thursday, I asked, via text, if we're still on for Friday, tonight.  He says, "We could be."

What?  Yes or no.

The Paralegal mentions that he doesn't know how late he's going to be working, despite having said it was going to be a slow week.  So this morning, I ask if we're on again.  He mentions that he doesn't know how long his boss is going to make him work.  I suggest he pass along to his boss on a PostIt note, this haiku:

Tasking, tasking work
Disgruntled boss stands in way
Hot boy on cold night

And with his response, I was certain this seventeen syllables had sealed the deal.  We banter through the day.  At 6 p.m., the time he's supposed to got off from work, I get a message that he's still there.  An hour later, I ask if he's still working.  He says yes, unfortunately.  We banter back and forth for another hour, before he goes silent again.

And then, at 9:22 p.m.: the message that he's home, and done with work.  And one well-wish: he hopes I enjoyed the glass of wine I mentioned I was having.

Is it too much to expect men to be clear with their intentions? Is it too much to expect that if there is a change in plans, or an alteration of the implied plans, that those shifts be communicated? That I be released to go about my way, so I'm not just hanging, waiting?  What has happened to common courtesy?  Or, if he is as interested as his texts tend to proclaim, that he work to make up the schedule mix up, or clearly reschedule at a time when his work will not compete.

* * * * *

So as I move forward, I plan to update you. But I also plan to go backwards, filling in some of the backstories on the dates that have already taken place. The time when some of the crucial lessons have been learned.  Two steps forward, one step back.

At least I got a new blog set up.