And so it goes...

So it goes again. I've frozen solid as my wannabe mentor walks in (only this time it's quite literal, being 32F today, and having to work in a drafty matchbox at a solid bronze desk, perched on a solid bronze chair. - Don't believe me?..). Oh my nerves, the agony, the nausea, the sheer fright and excitement!
...let us call it exfrightment.
Now, I'm just mad at myself. I cannot even buck up the courage to create SOME kind of small talk. Nothing comes out. My face, trying to blush and my glands straining to break a sweat, to no avail. Too cold. 
And I'm fine with that. I may be a nervous wreck as usual, but at least this time, I'm able to pull off looking "cool and profesh" (in theory).
Well, small talk may be swell, but what I really would like to do (and I've daydreamed countless scenarios of how to execute this) is to just hand over my resume and tell him exactly what I'd like to do as a part of his team. I am well aware of the risk I would be taking in doing so, since said scenario would transpire at my current place of occupation; for me, this only makes it more thrilling - just the Russian spy/Bond chick part of me peeking out. 
And yet, I continue to remain petrified - to make myself clear - NOT over the sake of my job, but because again, Shmanthony Shmordain is Tarzan to my baby giraffe.


New Subject? Radical. Keep watching until 2 minutes in, just past the FBI agents, if you didn't catch the reference there...


On to thoughts and happenings I have experienced within the past two months. 


It has been quite a while since posting, but many goings on have occurred recently, from huge and lengthy (not to mention stressful) work investigations, resulting in my exploring other "opportunities", an attempt to relax while home, nights arrested (happily and consensually) on the phone, to nine blissful October days, Oh yes, and a gnarly super virus my doc thought was mono, just to name a few of the events and reasons why every inch of my brain and emotions have been completely devoted to "thinking" or being involved in the moment. Lately, different issues and - I don't want to say stresses - but many instances have taken place to leave me feeling a touch too overwhelmed to focus any attention towards writing; I wanted to, but felt totally incapable, if that makes any sense at all. 
When feeling overwhelmed or stressed, a huge habit of mine is to recluse, even from Fairy Pudding. 
Mr. Future is such a brute, as he dauntingly approaches; he can also be a helluva tease. 
But no matter; it's in God's hands. So yes, I may be exfrighted, but I'm also a bit more at ease these days.
Bittersweet things. I sigh.