Friday, February 06, 2015

How to lose a guy in one text

At work I seem to have developed a reputation as a hardass. Today one of my counselors asked me if it was true that I call HR at the main office when people are late.

Much as my German half would find that infinitely satisfying, I don't. I'm not sure how the rumor got started. My supervisor is much better than I am at dealing with people's peccadilloes. When an intern lies to me or a counselor messes up, and I have to deal with them, it doesn't seem to touch her. She tells me what needs to be done and I do it -- but the way I do it, apparently, isn't tactful enough.

It's strange, because when I had to write someone up for doing something monumentally stupid, I agonized. I flashed back to all the times I've been written up. (Well, three times, once at each job after social work school.) I felt horrible addressing the behavior, and I tried to be as supportive as I could. When the counselor followed up that monumental piece of stupidity with an egrigious display of unprofessionalism, I didn't do a formal writeup, just a supervision note.

And yet, the people I supervise are rumorizing about my rigid and punitive punctuality..

I need to work on that. Yes, I know I'm supposed to be finding a therapist, but my schedule is still not final; we need to hire a few more people so I'm not working so many late nights. But it's only been two months and already there are hurt feelings. Some are not justified, but some might be. I thoguht I knew how to balance supervision with friendliness.

Part of the problem miight be (I hope) that I'm not getting regular supervision. My supervisor has been promoted; she's only staying until she finds a program director to replace her. In the meantime, she has a bazillion new duties. So she's often not around. Today we finally actually sat down to talk about how things are going.

"If I thought there were problems, I would not leave you hanging, Ayelet," she said. Apparently she thinks I'm not broken and don't need much fixing. Which is a relief. But I still think I really need more supervision, and I hope they find a cool program director soon.

As at work, so in dating. I am a bull in a china shop.

I haven't been blogging much about the guys I go out with, largely because I think that's healthier. But there have been several:
  • The brilliant, damaged engineer, who was so much fun to talk to until he told me he would never, ever, ever consider getting married again. It was great to feel so attracted to someone, to have that excitement and chemistry, to conversate like Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell in an old movie -- but after two glasses of wine on our second date, the awful truth emerged. I could have sworn he'd said on our first date that he was open to remarriage and possibly a baby, but he didn't have as much wine that night. Buh-bye. After Ivan the Terrible, I should have forever sworn off divorced engineers.
  • The disheveledly balding, bushily bearded guy, who wore a hoodie and dirty jeans and made me hug him hello and kissed my head. I could feel the wires of his beard press into my scalp. I've never been a fan of facial hair, and his beard was not attractive. Shave and a haircut, anyone? He wanted to go out again, but when he tried to hug me goodbye, I cringed and he looked stricken. "I'm not much of a hugger..." I offered feebly. He never called again, which was mostly a relief.
And then there's a guy that I was supposed to go out with again, but maybe I won't. Because he sent me a few cute texts, and I sent a horrible one.

He's a single dad. Child lives with him. So we went out on one of his non-custodial Saturday nights, a week ago. I thought we had a decent time, although he looked significantly older and scruffier than his profile picture. But he asked me on the date if I wanted to go out again and I said yes. We made plans to go out again on his next non-custodial Saturday night, which is a week from tomorrow.

Yesterday he sent a text:

I'm in an excruciatingly boring meeting. Please do not send me racy texts or I might burst out.

Ironically, I was in a fairly boring meeting myself and I didn't have my phone with me. So he texted again:

Unless you want to torture me with an unprofessional giggle attack.

I was still phoneless in my own meeting.

Meeting over. Resume arousing messages.

This guy is smart and funny. When I left work, I texted him,

ROFL... Sorry I missed this!

He responded quickly

There's no shortage of excruciating boredom. You'll have another chance.

And what did I think? He'll text me when he's bored and has nothing better to do. How flattering.

And very stupidly I texted,

How flattering.

Dead silence.

Why, why, why do I do such stupid things? I think better of it and I do it anyway! Stupid stupid stupid!

This morning I tried to muster some damage control

Sorry, that came out a little harsh.

No response. I called and left an apologetic voicemail -- said something like, "I'm sorry about that last text. It was... silly."

No response.

So I don't know if I have a second date with him. That's how Ayelet loses a guy in one text.
Copyright (c) "Ayelet Survivor"

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