The secret life of girls.... is that we obsess over everything. Everything that happens to us involving a guy we may like, really like, love, stopped loving etc.....always involves minor obsession over details. We re-count stupid things we did or said a million times trying to figure out what exactly it was that made him NOT call. Was it the cookie wrapper stuck to your ass (love that story Dana), the story you told about running over your ex with your car (1 too many sangrias and that story always seems to come up), or the fact that you refused to stay over his house the other night despite the fact that he SWORE you could leave your jeans ON.....You always wonder which one of these things was the TURN-OFF. But then again, you were on your best behavior and he still didn't realize that he couldn't live without you...hmmmm.
So, now that the Date is over and he obviously isn't calling, its time to obsess over the "damage control" tactics. This is where you try to come up with some cute and witty myspace message, or random flirty text message that shows that you kind of care, but doesn't make you look too desperate (this is just in case he lost your number or his phone wasn't working -you know, the REAL reason he hasn't called to set up another fabulous date night with you).
So you eventually you send the text, you are very familiar with the one "Hey, had a great time the other night lets catch up soon".....and still no response. Time to obsess again. Now you have to check your phone every 30 minutes for the rest of the night to make sure you didn't receive a text that you didn't hear. Then you have to re-read your sent text at least 3 times to make sure you didn't spell something weird, send it to the wrong person, or come off "clingy". Still no response. Eventually you are done freaking out over the text and now it is time to obsess over why you are "un-dateable", why NO ONE Likes you ever. You start to poor yourself a glass of Charles Shaw red and then you hear something beep.....
Oh, wait.......your text just went off. Yea!
Then you see his response text, it doesn't sound flirty or romantic. It just says "Come over". You look at the clock. Its 2am. Bars just closed. Time to obsess over what to do, what to wear, how to respond and "Is this a mass text, or is it just meant for me?" You know if you go over there you are turbo-slut, and you know if you don't go over there you are going to get filed away in the back of his brain along with the name of his 2nd grade teacher. So, what's a girl to do?
You tell me. :)
