Self-Inflicted Miscellaneousness

This weekend I had a temporary lapse of sanity. Friday night I was attempting to maintain my mysteriousness with trainer boy (based on the advice of Coco and Buhster) and I succeeded, until he dropped me off and mentioned that there was parking in front of my building. This is it I thought, reel him in. So I offer another meal, he accepts and 2hrs later he's passed out on my couch while I finish watching Transformers. I am quite pleased with myself.

Fast forward to Saturday morning when he's waking up in my bed (sigh, nothing happened, I swear). Fast forward to Saturday night when he's knocking on my door at 2am...keep pressing that button and it's 10am Sunday morning and I'm rubbing on his Money Over Bitches tattoo and convincing him that we don't know each other well enough to have sex.

I know I know, I said I wanted to hit that and have him retake my virginity, but if you know me at all, you know I talk a lot of shit. As I watched him scarf down 5 whole wheat pancakes like he hadn't eaten in days, I wondered, "how in the hell did I get myself into this situation?"

This my friends, is a classic case of self-inflicted miscellaneousness. This all could have been avoided very easily if I'd kept my mouth shut and hormones in check. I thought I could outsmart miscellaneousness, but that is just about impossible. I guess that makes me a miscellaneour for causing my own drama.

So today I found myself on the way to the gym, coming up with strategery for how I was going to act like I didn't know what my trainer's boxers looked like. And not to mention that extreme paranoia that comes when you did something your ass didnt have no business doing and you think everyone is watching you. Sigh, where's my miscellaneousness shield when I need it?