Mar 26
But my brain ate it.
So… last night, about 1:30am or 2am, I was jolted awake by the “beep-beep-beep” and rumbling buzz of my phone signaling that I had received a text message.
Now… I don’t know about all of YOU (all 1-6 people who have in passing read this blogity-autobiographical rambling mess that signifies my life) out there in happy-internet-blog-land… but I tend to be ASLEEP, in BED, with my 2 felines well before 1am on a weekday.
Why?
Because, dear readers (snicker) I, like many other people in their mid-30s with debt to pay off and children to keep in clothing, shoes, food, and toys, have what is colloquially called a “real job”. Which means that on weeknights I go to bed no later than 12am (which when I am not talking to RGG, Serin, or attempting to knit myself into a coma, is the LATEST I will be up) because I get up at 6am to get ready for WORK in the morning.
So, yeah.
First night in about 2 weeks that I haven’t had trouble falling asleep… and someone is texting me.
And who? Who might POSSIBLY be doing this?
Why, our friend the STALKER, of course.
Because I have been so warmly encouraging him to keep contacting me (at least in his mind), because I haven’t been abundantly CLEAR in that I do not want to talk to him in person, on the phone, recieve text messages, emails, IM contact, or even get notification of his status changes on FACEBOOK, because I am so HAPPY when I hear from him…
Well… for whatever deluded reason he continues to find ways and reasons to contact me. And I get frustrated with this, as I have no desire to be contacted.
I mean, you’d THINK that blocking IM, Facebook and filtering all email that came from him would be a hint, right? Or the fact that I changed my phone number because I didn’t want him to phone or text me anymore? Or the fact that I stated, clearly, that I didn’t want to ever talk to him again, EVER… any or all of those facts should have been enough for him to cease and desist in talking to me.
But no.
He found my phone number again. And he dropped off every piece of unwanted junk that I might have accidentally left at his place off on my doorstep. And he STILL texts me.
Such as last night, when he texted me IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.
The purpose, of which, was to tell me a few things that apparently he just NEEDED to tell me RIGHT THEN:
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That he was deauthorizing me from his iTunes account. Well… that’s nice. I had taken him off MINE approximately 2 minutes after realizing I didn’t want this man in my life… maybe before that…
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That HE wasn’t the person sending comments and texts and other assorted attempts at contact, even though it might have been coming from HIS computer. And, seriously, I don’t care WHO it is that might still be thinking I care enough to send me comments… could be his 9 year old, could be his best friend, could be his new lady-love, could be his roommate… hell… it could be one of his alternate personalities that are crammed tight into his skull for all I care, if the comments are coming from his computer chances are that HE knows about them and is encouraging them even if he isn’t the one sending them to me.
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That he misses me and needs… then the message gets cut off (and thankfully that was the last one).
The timing of this kinda made me think that the dude was drunk texting me. Which pisses me off because, really, how many times does one person have to change their phone number and request that the other take their numbers off/out of their phone before they DO it?
And once more…
Life lessons from Pam:
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Ex’s are no fun… even when you leave things on not-horrible terms it is no fun to deal with an ex anything.
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Some people just don’t get the hint, even after you hit them over the head with a lead pipe.
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The best way to deal with situations like this is to just not respond at all. Eventually I’m sure he’ll get tired of trying to get my attention and he’ll just find something better to do with his time and energy.
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The more things drag on with the Stalker and the unwanted attention, the more happy I am that I have RGG in my life…
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I am not going to let fear rule my life… or anger.
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I know how to make a voodoo dolly… just saying…
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