Still promising myself not to cry. Getting increasingly more difficult.

So, yeah. I went down to PMI this morning, all chipper because I didn't have to run groups today, and even more chipper because I found out that my favorite hot-ass case manager was to be back from vacay today (apparently that's where he was when I came to work last week with my hair all good and wearing a skirt. Crap). Today I headed down on I-275 without caffeine (shocker) and wearing my new Steves (acquired at a greatly discounted price) matched with -gasp!- a skirt.

I was out for blood, people. Plain and simple.

I got down there. I was impressed with my own ability to find something to wear that was nice, yet appropriate for being surrounded by delinquent teenage boys. Sure enough, Mr. Khaki Pants was at the front of the school, greeting all the kids as they got off the bus. I went up to greet the kids, and he turned to greet me. As he smiled widely with his perfect teeth and just-dimpled-enough smile, he extended his hand for me to shake as he said, "Hello, Sheila. How are you doing this morning?"

At that very moment, with my hand firm in his grip, I blinked twice... from the glint coming off of his wedding ring.

"Well, gee, Officer. I've never seen that before in my life!"

Honestly. It wasn't there the last time I saw him, nor was there a tan line indicating there had ever been one there. You may recall a few posts back that I did do the obligatory ring check. But it was there now. Clear as friggin' day. The damned thing wouldn't stop shining. It was like a pixie on crack.

And all that "blood" I was "out for" five seconds prior had suddenly drained from my face. Crap.

I find it strangely funny that Debbie Gibson's "Lost In Your Eyes" played as I pulled out of that parking lot. I had to laugh, just a little.

Man, was that a downer. I mean, I was thisclose to practicing writing my name with his last name. And it would have looked hella good!

I need something positive going into this new month. Something cheerful, inspirational, pure. Ah, I have it!

"When, Lord, when? When does Sheila get to see the sailboat?"

Yes, Danny does cheer me. Danny is pure and good. Cheerful as all get-out. Ahh. But wait. Danny's married, too! Sigh. In the words of Holden McNeil, "When's it gonna be my time?"

Oh, I so need to get over this. I'm going to have more Sierra Mist.