It's just a meal.He leaves work.
I call up the restaurant. Make reservations. I already know he'll be late..he always is.
I ask for the little used booth by the kitchen. Nobody likes to sit there, it's secluded, and where we sat our first time there and where we usually have been seated.
It's just a meal.
I hit the bathroom, wash up, brush my teeth. Check myself in the mirror. I was right..I wasn't happy with what I wore today!
It's just a meal.I head back to my office. The one he hasn't seen since I moved. I straighten up..dust, use some Windex. It was already waaay cleaner and neater than his office ever was, or could be even on his best day. But still...
It's just a meal.
and I wait. Wait for him to text me that he's on his way.
It's just a meal.
Eat? Who can eat? I'm about to barf.
Thursday: Idol Chatting
