Escape from Alcatraz

So Coach had his back surgery and he’s back in town per his crazy ass plan.  He messaged me via Facebook a few times while I was in Hawaii but nothing worth blogging about.  Then I came home from Hawaii. 

For some reason he started messaging and texting me – a lot.  I guess maybe because he was curious about Hawaii and couldn’t see my wall or because he was immobile after his surgery.  Who knows but it was making me crazy.  So I refriended him on Facebook with hopes that he’d just stalk me that way and leave me alone.  It’s worked pretty well I will say.  He’s only texted me like twice since I accepted his friend request.  That being said, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time until he goes crazy pants again.

He did text me Sunday night I guess and said he was bored laying on the couch.  I told him to chill out he’d only had surgery two days ago and that I was going to bed.  About 15 minutes later I got a text from him saying, “HA I got out.  I’m going to Target.”  I responded “not smart” and asked who was driving.  He said he was.  Hello Nutso!  Sure, driving your car three days after fairly major back surgery sounds like a genius idea!  I promptly told him he was an idiot. 

Jules and Gwyn both expressed concern that I had refriended him.  The thing is though while I miss what we had – scratch that – what I THOUGHT we had, I’m all too aware that I was way more in love with his illusion than his reality.  Every time I even think in the least about him, I’m flooded with anger over all the BS.  There are no worries there my friends. 

Am I sad still?  Sure.  Am I angry?  Hell yeah.  Do I want to go back there?  No way!  I’m definitely missing being part of a couple right now, especially with Gwyn’s Hawaiian defection, but it’s nowhere near worth entering that hazardous waste dump.  And that’s just what Coach is for me – toxic.

In other boy news, the Ginger and I didn’t see each other Sunday so I felt like I needed to pull back from him.  I didn’t text him any Sunday afternoon/Monday.  Last night about 8, he started texting me like crazy.  Boys are so weird.  I’ve reverted back to the not answering a text unless it contains a question rule that Gwyn and I created.  I don’t know what’s up with him but I’m not sweating it either way.  Though I want to have sex with him again purely to see if I can evoke another “oh boy.”

And I quit this bitch!  I turned in my notice at work here yesterday.  Felt damn great if I do say so.  I can’t tell you how many emails I’ve received from co-workers congratulating for me for “escaping” and wishing they could do the same.  My new job is for a hospital so I told Jules I’m keeping my eyes on the prize and I’m going to date me some doctors! 

Miranda