Connections

Settling in to my new position at work has been a breeze!  Let me just say, I do not miss manning the phones.  I have dealt with one too many people who seem to get a kick out of basically abusing customer service reps.  I've always been the emotional type, but lately, my hormones have gotten the best of me.  I even cried a few weeks ago because a customer told his friend I sounded like a bimbo!  Embarrassing.  At least I didn't vomit at my desk like another pregnant girl did!

Now, I'm responsible for monitoring call volume, queue time, scheduling requests and various other mundane tasks.  I'm loving it so far!  I actually enjoy writing reports and taking calls from fellow coworkers instead of irate customers.  The shift change is great, too.  I can sleep in on the days that I need it and my shift ends early enough to run a few errands or grab a late dinner with friends.

With my daily reports done and our peak hours having passed for the day, I found myself thinking more and more about Manda.  It had been a few days since she sent me that message.  After my talk with Rob, I had tried to put it out of my mind and focus on the positive aspects of my life.  Unfortunately, the implications had been eating away at me.  I felt helpless.  I had called Officer Reilly first thing this morning to ask for any advice.  He basically told me to screenshot the message, print it off and block Manda from Facebook.  If she contacts me through other means, write it down, log the details, print off any electronic communications, etc.  Document, document, document.  Since the TRO only pertains to Michael, there is nothing to be done about Manda contacting me unless it escalates or becomes harassment.  Still, the more I thought about her message, the more it bugged me.  I would need to get in touch with Rob's sister soon to gets her views on the matter.  I hate the fact that this is something I even have to deal with.  I feel like I'm on a soap opera or about to become an MSNBC special.

My sulking and lamenting was interrupted by the buzz of my phone from somewhere inside my purse.  I fished around for it, hoping to see a text from Eric.  I hadn't seen him since I'd spent the night and we'd finally had sex again.  Again, he's pulled the whole distance-after-banging thing.  Granted, in the past it was because he was still "secretly" roommates with his ex and didn't want any unnecessary drama or tension.  And yeah, my life is complicated right now and we aren't "official" or anything.  It would just be nice know I'm more than a booty call.  When I'm with him, he's super sweet, caring and seems totally into me.  We talk, we flirt, we connect.  Since I left his place, our only communication was a few cute or funny pictures from the Internet.  Is this what dating is like?  I'm kinda new to the whole casual dating thing.  Ugh.

Finally! My phone!  It had gotten jammed half inside my wallet again.  I swear, my purse is like a black hole sometimes.  I can't lie, I was disappointed to see that the new text was just from Kate asking if I'd be home on time.  I shot a quick reply confirming that, yeah, I'd be off soon and home within 45 minutes.  Now, I just had to count down the minutes until 8:30 when I could head out for the day!



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"I hope you're hungry!" Kate sang as I walked through the door.

"Absolutely!  It smells great in here, what are you cooking?" Kate was a great cook, although she seemed to prefer Ramen noodles and microwave meals.  I can't judge, though.  I basically live off of cereal, eggs and other quick-fix items.  We hadn't had an actual sit-down, home cooked meal together in awhile.

"I made lasagna!  It'll be done any minute."

"Ooh, special occasion?" I teased.  Kate knows I'm a sucker for Italian food, and she makes a mean lasagna.

"What, I can't cook a nice meal for my girlfriend?" she teased back.  She'd laughed until tears ran down her face when I'd told her about Rob thinking we were together.  She had also made it a point to remind me that we'd joked in the past if we were both single at age 30, we'd just marry each other and adopt a bunch of cats.

We gossiped and laughed over our delicious dinner.  It was so refreshing to see Kate not intoxicated for a change.  I felt like I had my BFF back.  She overdid it with the booze sometimes (okay, often) and varied somewhere between rambunctious, wild and having a great time to depressed and angry.  Just two nights ago, I'd come home from work to find her locked in the bathroom crying over a guy named Jack.  Jack was a mutual friend of ours, and apparently, Kate had a thing for him.  She had made a drunken pass at him and he turned her down.  Obviously, I forced my way in to comfort her and calm her down because that's what friends do, but I couldn't hide my irritation.  I had snapped at her, calling her out for being a hot mess and getting drunk all the time.  She cried more, vowed to change, then proceeded to come home from work drunk the very next day.

 I can't say I blame her for drinking on the job - I'm sure being a dancer isn't easy.  She'd told me plenty of stories about gross dudes getting too handsy, cat fights with the other dancers, all the free drinks men bought her.  I just wish she'd take it easy.  And I really, really wish she wouldn't drive in that state again.  Believe me, she got an earful about that one.

We spent the rest of the night watching movies on Netflix, just hanging out and enjoying a quiet night.  It's so easy to forget how good I have it in life.  It was a total reality check that things could be so much worse for me.  You'd think the tragic or horrifying news stories in the world would clue me in to that.  Instead, it was lasagna and my best friend.

Now, I just needed to figure out my Eric issues.  Until then, I could sit here on the couch, laughing with Kate and appreciating the life I have.