Tuesday, 11 July 1995
I found myself softening my line on this whole Chloe thing. I’m still racked with indecision over the whole “thing” (let’s not call it an affair). I tried tossing a coin before and then felt ashamed for being so flippant. The Gods of Chance were in favour of the match by the way, not that that means anything. I think the most worrisome aspect is having to make friends with all their friends. Why do you have to do that? There must be some way around it. I keep coming up with all these fanciful ideas and notions of why the whole “thing” is a bad idea, and the con’s (as opposed to the pro’s) column is stacked to the roof, but I keep coming back to it. Maybe there’s a message in there somewhere. I’m getting sick of the whole self analysis. There’s something stalling me at the precipice here,something unidentified that’s really holding me back, and I don’t want to proceed until it’s validated or scotched. How do you get to those nagging, underlying doubts? All this lofty dissertation on personal philosophy of relationship interventionism and nobility of thought and action is skirting around something and I can’t put my finger on what it is. It’s like searching the name of the actor who played the second Darren in “Bewitched”. You know you know it, you can see his face, but the answer just won’t come until you’re brushing your teeth or something a fortnight later and you slap your forehead and say How could I be so dumb?
I dunno Sis, the whole thing is tailor made for me. I know she fancies me, I’ve got middlemen (Jenny and Leah) to do the dirty work for me. It’s a perfectly inert courtship. Courtship by correspondence. Looking at it this way, it does seem a little odd. To get close to someone I have to hire an army of well-wishers to facilitate what is supposed to come naturally. I can see that I’ve drastically over thought this situation, looked at it from so many angles that it’s now impossible to get a clear view. You know, “can’t see the forest for the trees” and all that. God, now I’m even examining the manner of examination. It’s like I have a fly’s eye view of things, no overview. I can’t help it, I spend so much time thinking about stuff that I never get around to doing any of it.
Please tell me what you would do in my situation, you have all the facts at your disposal. Of course, we’re different people, and what you would do may not be appropriate for me, but it would be nice to hear your perspective. A fresh perspective.
Ten minutes later……
Aw look, fate is just mocking me now. Here I am thinking about embarking on a “thing” with Chloe, and Ms X (see entry for 2/5/95), my tactile nemesis comes over while I’m chatting to another office-mate and gives me a mother fucking hug for Christ’s sake. A hug, finished off with a rub on the back. I’m looking left and right for portents here, and this is not, categorically not, a good one. The Gods don’t convene their blessing with hugs from abominations of nature. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This is just a total horror of a day.
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