And since it's not likely that I'll ever actually meet him, I feel even safer.
To what does he owe the bestowing of my love? Last Friday, he fixed my SPAM problem. Because he's awesome.
Here's the chat that followed:
Me: I'm thinking I'll be dedicating a blog post to you tomorrow
12:23 PM Don: cool, maybe I'll get around to reading it. I had a lot of catch up to do.
me: Because I love you a whole whole lot right now.
Don: LMAO, why is that.
me:for the first time in months, I am not getting 300-500 (or more) email a day
12:24 PM Don: wow if i was that simple I would have stopped all of your email ;)
me: as far as I can tell, anyway. Maybe I should see what happens overnight before gracing you with my presence. . .
me: (by referring readers to your blog)
me: standing over your bed with what?
with a hatchet?
or a chainsaw?
but I LOOOOOVE you!
12:26 PM I'm a little giddy at the thought of leaving email hell
Don: as long as it's not a dismembered rabbit, it's probably ok to choose one of the other images.
12:27 PM me: you know, I never saw that movie. Maybe it's worth it to procure that from Netflix
12:29 PM Don: it is a little freaky. You could see it being a co-worker instead of a mistress.
Which makes me want to go to my room and die. Just a little, inside. Because I LOOOVE him and he only sees me as a crazy stalker. . .
But I can survive it, now that I don't have to wait an hour for SPAM to download every morning. And every mid-morning. And every noon. And every afternoon. . . A blackberry might even be a viable option now. Although come to think of it, I haven't been invited to update my penis for days now, which leaves me feeling hollow inside. What if I end up with the ONLY outdated penis in my circle of friends?
Is that worse or better than email hell?