March 18th, 18:18 | You can still push reset, trade me in for a better one

Ninety-three was my number in volleyball. I like it for a bunch of reasons. It's balanced, it's nice. It was the year before the year I joined the team. (Claire had '94': the year of; she was always canny that way.) Anyway, yeah.

Having informed me that my network mail file is too big, I've been archiving old (work) emails, and I came across a couple from my dad's work friend, who we've seen a couple times, and went to watch in concert (she sings in a pro choir). She's somewhere in her 40s or 50s, and she's smart -- she does some sort of database management work. She's also single. Now, you can blame this on my having recently re-watched Bridget Jones', but it's kinda grey and quiet out, and I'm surrounded by guys, most of whom are married here at work, and my thoughts are kind of circling around the topic.

Some people go into things with a very realistic, down-to-earth attitude. They figure, it's fun, they're connecting with another person, maybe it'll go somewhere. I've never had that. I always go into it thinking "this'll be forever". Not so much setting myself up for disappointment as stopping myself from setting up little walls. If I figure that they're going to know me eventually anyway, why bother hide stuff from them at the beginning? Much better to be totally honest from the start, so everyone knows what the rules are.

Amazingly, this hasn't made me cynical or disheartened.

Been another day when I started early, but then didn't get to write for 10 hours. Maybe later. *sigh* NewCoworker had his claws out for awhile today. :( I need a hug. And you know? The world sounds better in French. It really does.

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