racing. As much as I love these thoughts, it’s not really what I want running through my head on my first day of work.
I didn’t contact Corban. I don’t want him to think I’m desperate; perhaps I will message him before work.
I told Flick about my run in with Corban. She told me I should just call and ask him out. If he went through all the trouble of sneaking the note in my bag, he is obviously interested. What I’m wondering is when did he write the note since we had just run into each other? Maybe he planned it… HA! That’s wishful thinking.
I’ve begun typing him a message numerous times, with each effort resulting in me deleting it and throwing my phone to the opposite end of the couch. But it felt like my phone was sitting there staring at me, waiting for me to pick it up and just send the bloody message. I was having a battle with myself most of the night over it. My heart telling me to suck it up and do it, and my head telling me no, keep your heart safe; he will only hurt you.
Lying in bed now thinking about him sets my nerves on edge. I replay our special kissing moment in my mind. I kick my legs under my blanket in frustration at how Corban has consumed my thoughts lately. He has captured me in his net and tangled my heart in it. I mean he is just another guy… Isn’t he? I wonder if he feels the same way.
He is very attractive and probably has every girl from here to Australia trying to claw her way into his bed. I’m sure he isn’t one to turn them down, and I am not going to be one of those girls. I will not jump to his beck and call; that’s just not in my nature. Looking at the time, I see it’s five thirty a.m..
“Oh, man, I am so not a morning person,” I say to no one in particular. These thoughts aren’t very good to be thinking about at this time of the morning. I roll over, trying to clear my mind of all thoughts Corban; sleep finally closing in on me once again.
****
I cannot decide what to wear; it’s frustrating! I spent the money yesterday for awesome new outfits, and now I can’t decide. I look at myself in the mirror for what seems like the hundredth time this morning. I’m wearing a white, button up blouse with a black pencil skirt and black heels, very professional I think, but I don’t want to be Plain Jane.
Stripping for the second time, I pick up the caramel dress, another of yesterday’s purchases. Slipping into it, it fits perfectly. It’s nice and snug, showing off all the right curves, but not coming across as over the top. I put the black skinny belt that came with it around my waist. It looks perfect, professional and definitely not boring. Putting my black, open toe heels on, I do a little spin in front of the mirror, smiling at my reflection, happy with my choice.
I’m contemplating messaging Corban today. I’m still undecided on what to do or even say for that matter. Oh, well, here goes! I reach for my phone, selecting his number I saved in there the night before. There is constant pounding in my chest. I can hear the pulsing in my ears and my hands tremble as I type the message.
Me: Hey, Corban, Melodi here. Sorry I didn’t message sooner. Well, today I start my new job. Hopefully, it all goes smoothly. Hope you have a good day. Talk to you later. Oh, and ahh, by the way, I had a pretty HOT dream about you last night. I look forward to seeing you again someday soon.
Throwing my phone in my bag, I make my way to the bathroom, and apply a small amount of makeup. Fifteen minutes later, I’m happy with some foundation, blush, mascara, eyeliner, and light pink lip-gloss, simple but nice. Checking the time, it’s eight. I stare at my phone with the hopes of a reply, only to be let down. I get my bag, keys, and a banana. Yep, breakfast on the run and I’m ready to face the world. I would seriously h ate to be late on my first day.
Arriving at Case Constructions, the jittery bug kicks in. I go straight to the reception desk in the lobby
I didn’t contact Corban. I don’t want him to think I’m desperate; perhaps I will message him before work.
I told Flick about my run in with Corban. She told me I should just call and ask him out. If he went through all the trouble of sneaking the note in my bag, he is obviously interested. What I’m wondering is when did he write the note since we had just run into each other? Maybe he planned it… HA! That’s wishful thinking.
I’ve begun typing him a message numerous times, with each effort resulting in me deleting it and throwing my phone to the opposite end of the couch. But it felt like my phone was sitting there staring at me, waiting for me to pick it up and just send the bloody message. I was having a battle with myself most of the night over it. My heart telling me to suck it up and do it, and my head telling me no, keep your heart safe; he will only hurt you.
Lying in bed now thinking about him sets my nerves on edge. I replay our special kissing moment in my mind. I kick my legs under my blanket in frustration at how Corban has consumed my thoughts lately. He has captured me in his net and tangled my heart in it. I mean he is just another guy… Isn’t he? I wonder if he feels the same way.
He is very attractive and probably has every girl from here to Australia trying to claw her way into his bed. I’m sure he isn’t one to turn them down, and I am not going to be one of those girls. I will not jump to his beck and call; that’s just not in my nature. Looking at the time, I see it’s five thirty a.m..
“Oh, man, I am so not a morning person,” I say to no one in particular. These thoughts aren’t very good to be thinking about at this time of the morning. I roll over, trying to clear my mind of all thoughts Corban; sleep finally closing in on me once again.
****
I cannot decide what to wear; it’s frustrating! I spent the money yesterday for awesome new outfits, and now I can’t decide. I look at myself in the mirror for what seems like the hundredth time this morning. I’m wearing a white, button up blouse with a black pencil skirt and black heels, very professional I think, but I don’t want to be Plain Jane.
Stripping for the second time, I pick up the caramel dress, another of yesterday’s purchases. Slipping into it, it fits perfectly. It’s nice and snug, showing off all the right curves, but not coming across as over the top. I put the black skinny belt that came with it around my waist. It looks perfect, professional and definitely not boring. Putting my black, open toe heels on, I do a little spin in front of the mirror, smiling at my reflection, happy with my choice.
I’m contemplating messaging Corban today. I’m still undecided on what to do or even say for that matter. Oh, well, here goes! I reach for my phone, selecting his number I saved in there the night before. There is constant pounding in my chest. I can hear the pulsing in my ears and my hands tremble as I type the message.
Me: Hey, Corban, Melodi here. Sorry I didn’t message sooner. Well, today I start my new job. Hopefully, it all goes smoothly. Hope you have a good day. Talk to you later. Oh, and ahh, by the way, I had a pretty HOT dream about you last night. I look forward to seeing you again someday soon.
Throwing my phone in my bag, I make my way to the bathroom, and apply a small amount of makeup. Fifteen minutes later, I’m happy with some foundation, blush, mascara, eyeliner, and light pink lip-gloss, simple but nice. Checking the time, it’s eight. I stare at my phone with the hopes of a reply, only to be let down. I get my bag, keys, and a banana. Yep, breakfast on the run and I’m ready to face the world. I would seriously h ate to be late on my first day.
Arriving at Case Constructions, the jittery bug kicks in. I go straight to the reception desk in the lobby
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