I Can't Fight This Feeling Anymore

As in, I just can't work anymore today.  I am worked out.

So, last night was our first (and last) softball playoff game of the season.  It was a fun game, and went into extra innings, but as we were the away team, we didn't have last at-bats so when they scored 3 to top our 2, it was dunzo.  Still, it was exciting and a good way to go out, I think.  And also the air was thick and soupy, and I realized that I'm not so sad about softball being over with, though I enjoyed this season more than I thought I would.  But now I have more free time, that just may translate into gym time.  You know, we'll see what happens.

Tonight is Veggie Pick-up (and it's a fruit week, I think!  I love the bi-weekly fruit pickups!  I'm so bi.)  Then it's home for inventive cooking, laundry (maybe), and my upstairs lady neighbor invited me up to join her and friends for potluck and a movie...but I think she's kind of weird and I want to skip it.  I'll see how the guests seem when they show up by looking out my peephole.  Good idea, right?  I think she is weird because:
1.  She is dating and has moved in with my landlord, a diminuitive Latino with anger problems who likes ballroom dancing and shortie shorts.  He is also much older than she seems, as she is probably my age, but you know the appeal of a man with property...
2.  I saw her wearing the same professional outfit (ugly printed skirt, ugly pastel shell top) two days in a row to work this week.  Why?  It's certainly not a uniform.
3.  That's mostly it -- she's usually nice, but I don't want to be buddies.

Also, I've been so tired this week that I may want to go to bed at 8 pm.  It's true, I'm on my way to becoming a shut-in.

In other fun news, Schmillie and I planned a trip to visit Schmauren in Boston in two weeks!  I can't wait!  I even am leaving work early on a Friday (like everyone else in the world) so we can beat the traffic. 

Before Diabetes went on vacation, at some point when we were talking in his office he showed me how a shelf on his bookcase was "broken."  I just pointed out that one of the pegs (that holds it up from underneath) was in the wrong slot (so dirty) but he didn't want to fuss with it, so I said that I'd fix it at some point.  I realize this was very butch of me, but I can't help it!  I like to fix things.  So I just fixed it now and put a Post-It on the shelf that says "Voila!" with a smiley face and "-S."  I'm so lame with my romantic overtures, but I've accepted this.  Also, the only co-worker who knows we have a flirtation (the paralegal girl in my office) is encouraging me to text him and ask how his vaca is going.  She says that he clearly wanted to hear from me as he gave me his number.  I feel like a character in a romantic comedy -- the one who makes all the wrong assumptions, actually.  But I'm considering it, too.  Advice?