Friday 1 September 2006

Fig Redux

Tuesday afternoon, after not having spoken to the Fig for six weeks, I emailed him to say I was near -- or near-ish -- to his flat, and did he want to get a coffee?

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

I could have handled it if he hadn't responded at all, I think. But what I can't handle is this: He wrote back saying it was good to hear from me, that he was in Brussels, and that we should organize something when he got back Thursday. I haven't heard from him again. Ugh. Why the hell didn't he just not answer in the first place? And ugh, why didn't I trust my gut, which was not to pick at this particular scab?

Even though it's only been a few weeks, I forgot just how miserable it is to check your email every ten seconds, to be in the middle of a perfectly nice dinner and scrabble for your Blackberry at random moments and see the red light flashing and to hope, to have dizzying hope, and to see it is only your White House press update, or a list of colleagues who will be promoting various magazine stories on TV, or a work question, or...

1 comment:

  1. I know this has NOTHING to do with ANYTHING, but YOU get a d*** WHITE HOUSE press update.

    *sulks with jealousy*

    ReplyDelete