prognosis: negative

It's worse then I thought.
Maybe it's just because I don't want to write my paper, and so my mind keeps trailing off to anything tangible that's *not* my paper, but for the first time in FOREVER, I actually really want this guy to do what he said he would.
And that is to call me.
I think that if he was to call me right now, I'd hit the ceiling with excitement and bubbly happiness. How wretched is that?
And if he doesn't call? Well it'll just be more ammo for the cynical battle I'm waging against the dark and forboding world, not to mention that it'll add pounds to the non-destructible protective shield I'm working on building around myself so that no one can disappoint me ever again.
The Chinese have it right: Confucius says: Everything in moderation. They don't get ecstatic when random boys phone them after they said they would, and they don't break down and cry when things don't go their way for a while. Balance. Harmony. Good follows bad, and for the Chinese, that's just the way life is. Accept it.
But no, not us Westerners.
All I can think about is how amazingly cute he is when he smiles, how pretty his eyes are, and what a dolt I was the WHOLE NIGHT. Why on earth did I attempt to tell a joke?
I really really really really really hope he calls.
I'd pray to Baby Jesus, but that seems almost as futile as me trying to write my paper right about now.