Chrisonomicon

Sunday, April 7, 2002

This exhaustion is a tangible thing. I can feel around it with my tongue, the muscles in my back, my forearms and calves and I'm starting to question my reasoning when taking on this second job because I'm coming home with a palpably perceptible soreness after standing and moving all day long. On the other hand, I had been wanting this physical activity and involvement with people that is so lacking in my desk job so I'm apt to hold my tongue and stick it out.

It's amazing what a crush can do for your energy levels. Sloughing my way through the front door with an armload of boxes for moving, I settled in with a heavy sigh and picked up my phone to check messages. The first was from Dave, the second from Dad, and the third from none other than the crush.

(I have this really bad habit of conditionalizing everything by making mental bets against the outcomes of events in my life. For instance, after listening to my dad's message, my mind decided in the split second before the final message played, that if it was from Chris, he was a good catch. The message was from Chris.)

My breath caught somewhere between the back of my throat and my stomach as I listened, languorously, to each syllable exhaled somewhere on the other end of the line between those lips that I had been kissing not 48 hours ago. Dialing his number without a moment's hesitation, I tried to push aside the mental anguish over not thinking of something clever to say when he answered the phone. Fortunately, I didn't need to.

He's an easy conversationalist, witty and down-to-earth. Did I mention he's got a British accent? We chatted about weekend activities: I saw Kissing Jessica Stein ; he spent time with friends at the bars. We chatted about future activities: Wednesday night for burgers at Red Top and dessert at Michelle's. Monday and Tuesday are cruelly long. I can't wait.

My house is being taken over by evil cardboard boxes from outer space, waiting to be filled with books and clothes and sundries and miscellanea. The move is to take place in T-minus 24 days. But who's counting?