Batik-ed

On Wednesday night we batik-ed the night away with some loud music and wannabe "ladies". I didn't party. I went with my jacket and black pants, just to show off my newly purchased heels.

Those heels were useful the night before... They were really really handy. I was advised that heels that height is good... and is meant to be kept at home!

The night at the annual dinner was amazing... Maybe it was because I was hanging around him so much. It was apparent. It was written all over my face that I could never get enough of him. And the great thing about it was, the boy noticed. The boy was watching me flashing left and write around the auro of the man that so attracted me.

Would anyone blame me for being around this gorgeous unavailable man?

Would anyone not understand why I have this infatuation?

Sigh...

It was such wonderful build up to the evening.. which ended in disaster. She asked him for a pic and he obliged to. He was too much of a gentleman not to oblige. And it happens again.
Last year, this year, next year. Sigh.

She has the pleasure of displaying the picture in her office. Year 1. Year 2.
I had no idea what got into me. I was so upset with him (more myself than of him) that I walked out of there and crystalised.

I can never ever be perfect when it comes to him. I must just be "something off". I threw a tantrum. I was juvenile. I was jealous.

I walked him back to his office and went back to my office. I walked out in the drizzle and hid behind a pole as I crystalised. I wanted to see his car drive out. Then I realised that this infatuation has turned into an obsession, and I'm turning into a stalker.

In the drizzle, I left the lamp post and walked back to my office. I sat and let two drops fall. Then I changed out of my uniform to go back to the party.

It ruined my whole night. I let her ruin my whole night. I don't know why I let it get to me. It's just a picture.

I was with Mel-B and my sweet china doll, and I couldn't get my rhythm back. I've lost my mojo. Mel-B held my hand and tried to sway my hips to the rhythm, and I couldn't get it back. For the dancing queen that I am... I lost it that night.

I went home. I wanted to be alone. And alone I was. I played my Norah Jones CD and couldn't fall asleep till 2.30am.

I woke up and wanted to eat someone for breakfast. Maybe a children or two. Maybe even an infant. I don't know. But I wanted blood.

I was wearing a frown, all of Thursday. I received an sms from him. And I rudely replied.
"I am too hungry for coffee. And I'm not through being angry at you"

What right do I have to be angry at him? What right do I have to throw tantrums at him?

My sweet china doll said to me, "Be professional. Step up to the level he is. He was being a gentleman to her. And I'm sure you would want him to be a gentleman to you if you asked him for a picture."

Then I realised I was being a total ass. I was being juvenile about it. Remember I said I'm always less than perfect with him? Yeah, now I realised what else I need to be perfect. I need to be a gentleman.