May I Confess...?

I'm scared.

Yep. Petrified.

Carl sent me his phone number, and said that he's "waiting for my call."

That was ...when was it? Last Tuesday, I think. Poor Carl. I think of calling him and I just freak out.

Why? I mean, what's the worst that can happen? ("That he'll answer the phone!!" gibbers my terrified inner child.) One - or six - of those awkward moments when the Cone of Silence descends over the conversation; I can just hear myself saying, "Say, how 'bout them Saints?!" (How 'bout them Saints!! WHO DAT??? But I digress, don't I?)

Anyway, I just don't know what to say. And I hate making amusing and polite chit-chat with someone I don't know, especially over the phone. I sound like a dork. He said that he doesn't like to discuss politics, which is always a reliable fallback. Heck, if I had my choice, I'd much prefer to swap emails for a while, but Carl is a man of few - and misspelled - words.

I don't feel any attraction to Carl, really. Maybe I'm being too all-fired picky, but Carl seems about as exciting as a Swanson TV dinner. Straight from the freezer. Meatloaf. With peas.

Poor Carl. I don't know what to do with him. All week, I've been making excuse after excuse for not picking up the phone and calling him. It was raining really hard. I had three fillings and my mouth hurts. I was busy watching television. The Biggest Loser was on. Oops - gotta clean out the litter box and take out the trash! Can't call now!

Readers? What shall I do?

Here's my dilemma: I can't figure out whether I don't feel any attraction for Carl and that's why I don't want to call him, OR I don't want to make the call, so I'm telling myself that he's an icky little man and I don't like him.

See? The eternal dilemma of which came first, the chicken or the egg.

It has been so long since I've had a date that I can't tell if a guy will come along who will make me feel so tingly that I can't wait to talk to him on the phone or if it's specifically Carl who makes me want to chuck my phone off the balcony and flee. Or, worst of all, maybe there isn't a man out there who can make me feel all tingly - maybe my "tingle" is broken.

That would be awful, to have a broken tingle.

At this point, I don't really have any desire to go out with Carl, but I have this feeling like I have to give him a chance. Like it wouldn't be fair if I simply said, "Gee, Carl, you're probably a very nice man, but I'm not really interested." Give Carl a chance, my mind says, be a Nice Girl and give him a chance.

And then, I ask myself why.

Why do I have to give Carl - a man I'm really not interested in meeting - a chance? Don't I deserve to have a man who makes me feel all tingly, or am I so old and old-maidish that I must just take whoever comes along and give him a chance, just so I can get off the shelf...?

I think this is a case of what I call Nice Girl Syndrome, you know, that if you're a Nice Girl, you have to say yes to people and do things you don't want to do - or you won't be a Nice Girl. And that includes giving men like Carl a chance.

Boy, what a mess I am.

Anyway, reader, I haven't quite made up my mind about Carl - yet, but I think I'm leaning toward emailing him and asking him if he'd mind if we swapped emails for a little while, so I could get to know him a little better rather than jump in with the phone call. That would give me a chance to explore my feelings a little more and see if I can resolve my chicken/egg issue.

Feel free to jump in any time.

Love,

Maggie