Love in the Time of Migraines

Why do boys make me stupid? Or feel stupid? Or feel like I act stupid? Or something. Dog wanted to go out. I figured I should stop by Neighbor Guy's place to make sure he's still alive and see how school's been going. His lights were all on and his dog was there but he didn't answer the door, so I started to give up and leave when I hear his voice behind me. He's walking with Possible Boy, who as of this morning hadn't seen him in a week, either. And I'm in sweats. First thing Possible Boy says is "Your hair looks really cute like that."
My dumbass reply: "I think I had it like this this morning."
UGH. Punch self in face.
And he really wants to be friends with my dog. My dog. He's so patient. He doesn't get annoyed, and it's not even the humoring me because he wants in my pants or sufficiently cares about me for other reasons. He actually wants my dog, who barks at him without pause and tried to bite his elbow as he crouched down to appear less threatening, to like him.
Right now, he's at the bar. I know this because he said that's where he was going. They've got live Irish music tonight.
Thing that would've been good to say: "Maybe I'll go drop the dog at home and join you in a little while."
Thing I said instead: "I'm going home to read more of my book."
Hide behind the pages of Love in the Time of Cholera. Live vicareously through Fermina Daza instead of creating my own story.
Sometimes it's fun to be ridiculous.