Well. One nice thing about working for a large corporation is that they tend to provide a decent severance package when they let you go. So, if they do, I should have a healthy buffer. And the truth is, I'm very good at my job and not too worried about finding something else should that prove necessary.
And life goes on, the petty concerns at the centre of personal universe far outweighing such things as exploding buses in Israel or bulldozed houses in Palestine. Who was it that said, "Tragedy is when I stub my toe; comedy is when you fall and break your hip"?
I spoke with Siya again last night. I was feeling pretty lousy - throbbing head, sniffles; shaking a cold is always a slow process - and meant for it to be brief, but we somehow managed 45 minutes before I packed it in.
She isn't coming to Toronto this weekend, having decided instead on a quick trip to Winnipeg. Which makes sense, since she is still intending to come down here near the end of the month.
And, yes, still planning on staying with me.
A weird situation, or so it feels. We have talked about sleeping together, talked about "dating", and are - wisely - both saying the right thing: ie, that we hope we like each other "that way", but that we aren't expecting anything other than pleasant company during her stay.
She also mentioned, somewhat sheepishly, her reaction to learning how (not) tall I am. Said, "I thought we might sleep together, but not date." She said she isn't sure her "pride" would allow her to be seen dating someone 16 years her senior and 3 inches her junior.
I guess I'm hoping my charm convinces her otherwise. Although, part of me is also hoping she *does* want to keep me a "secret". My inner fear-of-commitment would certainly appreciate the license that would grant me.
(Are we feeling sleezy yet?)