My day off, and I had spent the morning drinking vodka cocktails and filling my head with fairy tale fluff- Snow White, Sex & the City, and reading 'The Soul of a Chef'. Fantasies of love, happily ever after, and phenomenal food keep running through my head. I was waiting for a work meeting, and for J to maybe come sweep me off my feet and take me out for one of our amazing dates.
With my phone off, the chances of him coming were greatly reduced. I've been kicking myself all night for that. Instead, I find myself just... waiting. Like an over eager pet, but tempered with the expectation of disappointment. This is why I have a love-hate relationship with fairy tales. I love the idealism, the optimism- but I am always far too realistic to believe in this nonsense. J is just enough of a jerk to keep me believing. He's like the inspiration to a Journey song, and it's a combination of elation and wanting to vomit. At least with food fantasies, there is a greater chance I might one day get to eat at the French Laundry, or the Granmercy Tavern or something.
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