Write about: getting the monkey off your back.
Inspired by Alex Burrows of the Vancouver Canucks scoring his first two goals of the season tonight. After leading the team in goals last year it's been a very rough year for him, between a foot injury on opening night, having a puck break his jaw in December, and just seeming to have no luck around the net when he has been healthy.
So I'm happy for him, and happier for his team which managed to pull out the win this evening. They needed it, rather desperately.
Outside rain falls, marking the passage of time with pitters and patters as we march toward dawn.
I would sleep if I could. This maelstrom of thoughts inside my head won't let me. They are all demanding to be heard and considered, fairly and at great length. My timely arrival at work come morning is no concern of theirs. Nor, I believe it's fair to say at this point, is my peace of mind.
She must be aware of all this suffering she causes me. It must be written on my face every time we meet, echoing after every word I speak to her. If it is not as plain as day by now then I am an exponentially greater actor than I could have ever imagined.
Asking her out is my only exit. Of course it is. So why haven't I? Does some remote corner of my brain actually want this madness to continue? Surely I am not so self-destructive as that.
Outside the sky begins to lighten while the rain does not.
It is the fear that keeps me silent. It always is. The terror lurking within the what ifs. What if she says no. What if she laughs while saying no. What if she tells everyone in the office about it.
What if she says yes?
This cannot last much longer. There are only two ways for this to end. Either I quit, find work somewhere else. Far away, preferably. Or I ask her out.
Enough with the delays. Enough with the sleepless nights. I pick up the phone and consider the numbers staring up at me. It is time to dial.
The only question which remains is this: will the number I punch in belong to the office... or her?