Getting Royally Screwed

Those of you reading this post, who are inclined towards pun-ish humour, please, restrain your imagination- I am not fooling around with Prince Harry or William, or indeed, anyone from the British monarchy. (If the slower readers could kindly refer to the title...)

My weekend was quite exhausting- had to visit relatives and work throughout- and weekends are not meant for that. The only break I got was visiting a friend who said he had a surprise for me- he'd had a bike accident. Still, it was a cheery evening that went on late into the night with the unfortunate result that I didn't get that much sleep, so my deprivation on that front continues as well.

You may ask what other deprivations I refer to. What i suffer in that way not tongue can tell. Which makes this blog convenient. If you have no clue, either you have short-term memory loss or I have omitted to mention the barren desert that is my love-life. No flower has bloomed, to waste its fragrance on the desert air or otherwise. It amazes me how I'm never loveless in that I don't love; it's always that the love is unrequited. Yet, I trudge on.

My co-worker has still given no indication that he's interested in me as more than a co-worker. In fact, I doubt if he's even entirely interested as a co-worker. All this tends to weigh on the heart a bit but I manage to keep the stiff, upper lip. He seems to be entirely oblivious to my not-inconsiderable charms and I'm forced to conclude that either he's gay or just plain not interested. And honestly, I'm not thrilled about either alternative. And I don't think there's much I can do about this, as in I've already tried quite a bit. Maybe that's the problem- I'm trying too hard. I think I should take it easy- he needs to see the real me, not the me I want him to see. And once that's accomplished I'm sure he'll be eating out of my hand (not in the fashion of a horse or other such lower vertebrate but figuratively).
Because let's face it- I'm irresistible.