Go ahead, laugh.

Hello everyone! I haven't been updating as often as I would like, but at least I'm still writing more than once a week, so yay! Today I'd like to talk about love, lust and infatuation- or rather, their influence in my life, the patheticness of which I'm pretty sure is the result of me being single for far too long. (Why am I so needy??)

Some of you (OK, I think everyone who actually reads my blog) already know about my creepy obsession with a certain "Cute New Guy" who works with me. Clever nickname, I know; I needed something to call him in all the emails I send Megan, because we like to chronicle our daily lives to each other. Cute New Guy was hired by my company one week after I started temping. The first time we spoke, he called to let me know he was running late on his first day, and he was worried about it. I could not tell from his voice that he was cute, which made it all the more exciting to see him in person. I have come to cherish every insignificant interaction with him to an extent that frightens even myself. I am pretty sure he thinks I am weird (I will have to write about the argument we had about a cricket in the office), but every day we at least say hi, and some days we have brief conversations, and sometimes he even leans over the front desk to confide things to me (I know, it's almost as if he read my entry "How to win over a receptionist in 8 easy weeks"!!!). The only thing I can tell myself to make me feel slightly less creepy is that he is one of only a few young guys in the office, and I need something to occupy my day. Oh, also we were in the same high school class and we happen to have mutual friends/acquaintances, so I am constantly freaked out that he will find out I call him Cute New Guy. So please, no guesses as to his real name. If you are dying of curiosity, I can tell you in person.

EDIT: I just remembered to inform everyone that I told the guy I am actually interested in, who I do not have a creepy nickname for (yet- haha!), about Cute New Guy. Yeah. How's that for smooth. No wonder I am so lucky in love.

Something possibly even weirder is that I have realized that I have conversations with some of the not-my-age guys in the office that I do not find sketchy at all, but when I think about, I would think they qualified as flirting if they were with guys my age. How does this make any sense? When you examine the content of our discussions they are usually generic/inane/harmless, and at any rate, definitely not sketchy. Why would I consider this flirting if it were with, say, Cute New Guy? Am I that pathetic and horrible at flirting? I guess it's still true- I've never really been able to determine when I am flirting with people or when they are flirting with me. Will I ever learn???

Big sigh. I feel like a middle schooler.