Head scratching continues.
Valentine`s evening was a total wash. That is to say, I bathed in liquor. I started the evening off meeting up with The ACG for some pre-game drinks. It`s always fun to meet people with whom I`ve had lots of internet action. Anyway, 2 big fat vodka tonics later, I shuttled over to Rittenhouse to meet up with my married friend S for sushi. Bless her heart, she gave me a Valentine`s card. The restaurant, which I know to be PhD boy`s favorite spot, was actually excellent. I almost wish it had been awful, because then I could say that his culinary tastes are sub-par. But oh well.
After dinner, I decided that I would have one more drink at my favorite private bar up the block. I should have known that it would be trouble when I walked in. I was the only one there. Clearly, my bar is not a romantic hotspot. However, the bartender was so pleased to see me that he proceeded to pour me free glasses of wine and feed me chocolate till 2am. Whoa there, drunken Nelly.
Yeah, I woke up just a little worse for the wear yesterday and ended up coming to work feeling rather guilty and dehydrated 3 hours late. Whoops. But, to be fair, I think I needed a raging night of alcoholic bleariness to take the edge off. The edge was ground down to a nub by all that wine, I can assure you.
All kinds of drama at work ensued. The shareholders at my firm have been on a bit of a tirade about associate profitability and billable hours since the first of the year. The result has been a rather repetitious speech at virtually every individual department meeting for the benefit of the associates. One of my co-workers, M, has been under a lot of professional strain the last few weeks. She works under 5 shareholders who all exist like little Napoleons conquering her time and energy. She`s put in exorbitant hours, and is still under pressure to put in more time. Really, this is part and parcel of being a first year associate. The key to handling it is to just put your nose to the grindstone, crank out the most work and the highest quality level you can manage, and just get through the week.
M, however, had clearly reached her limit. She went batshit. Stormed out the meeting, pissing off the head of the litigation group, and baffling the rest of the meeting attendees. For the next 5 hours, I was on and off the phone with her. She barricaded herself in her office and literally bawled for the remainder of the day. No good. She fell off the cliff of sanity, and there`s nothing I can do to help her other than tell her to get a grip, for the love of God.
Law firm 1, Associates, 0. Sigh.
I finally got out of the drama-hole at about 7. I had to run a quick errand to pick up a charitable donation for the Black Tie this weekend, and parked for a mere 5 minutes in a handicapped parking zone. BIIIIIG mistake. I am now the proud owner of a 400.00 parking ticket. Yes, I shouldn`t have parked there, but what the fuck?? 400.00 seems a wee bit excessive, does it not??? And the irony of recieving it while picking up a charitable donation is just too much for me.
Here`s where it gets interesting. While I was talking to the donor, I felt the crackberry rumble in my pocket. I checked it when I got back to the car, and lo and behold...
An email from PhD boy.
Here`s the message:
Hey V,
How's your week been going? I've been uber-busy, but that's good. I just sat down now, looked at the clock, and thought "geesh- is it really 6?". Time flies when you're having fun, I guess...
So did you buy some powerball tickets today? It's a big one...
Alright, well I think I might roll outta here early today. I've got to start getting my apartment cleaned up since my mom is coming on friday. Hope you're doing well, talk to you later.
-PhD Boy
Ok. What the bloody hell is this blase piece of carp???
My two theories:
1) He really thinks we can be just friends, and is making an overture.
2) He freaked out when things went crazy fast, and is trying to re-introduce a slow pace.
I haven`t responded yet. I`ve been thinking about this a lot, and I think that I will respond...but not until tomorrow, and my response will be friendly, but vague and a little short-winded. I need him to declare a motive before I know how to proceed.
Of course, there is also the chance that he`s a sociopathic nuthead who just wants to crush me over and over again.