I am Not the Cliche (part 1)

Be forewarned, this is a bit of a long post...

I am not idly surfing the web waiting for him to call/text. It may look like it, but ah, 'tis a fool who thinks that! I happen to be surfing the web totally of my own accord, and just so happen to be waiting, nay, confidently anticipating, a phone call whilst doing so. Just to clarify. Honestly, I need to do laundry at his place. Like, if I was annoyed that he hasn't called to hang out (which I am not), I potentially could be annoyed that I am missing the chance to wash two weeks' worth of clothes. How can I impart to him the seriousness of this matter?! Sweetheart, I could text, if I don't do laundry like, tonight, I will have to go to class naked. And I won't be in a good mood because I will be in class, naked. Hopefully it won't come to that. I don't feel like calling him myself because I am practicing this thing called "patience." And by practice I mean pretending to have some.

I was giving him until 8pm but we will have to take baby steps on this patience thing so that has been pushed up to 7:30pm. Do time constraints fall into the category of over-analyzing? Or simply planning ahead? No, over-analyzing would be wondering why he hasn't called yet. And I'm not; wondering, that is. After all, he could just be busy. He could be in the shower. He could think me a paranoid, overeager shrew who can't keep a man...no! Sorry. The old, issue-laden Lucky reared her ugly head.

God, this being patient business is nothing short of exhausting. Oh, there's a basketball game on, lovely. That should kill some time (in case you haven't gathered, I'm alone in my room and therefore need the distraction provided by this long post). I could flat-iron my hair, organize my shoes, finish my homework (lol, girlfriend please). I have no class tomorrow therefore a free day to do all of the aforementioned things.

7:25p! What's a measly five minutes? No, no, you're right, it's the principle. This is a much-needed life-lesson. Three minutes...