Population: Me (7/19/08 Saturday)

Not what I’d call a Good Julie Day today. No desk time together, not even in the workroom together at any hour. And the "pointed" question seemed to have not just fallen flat but backfired. "Shortly after you left last night," I said, leaning "casually" against a book cart "I got to wondering why you bothered looking up that book." She took a few steps toward me, stopped, and said, looking away to the right, "I just couldn’t believe we didn’t have it, that’s all." Her tone, I inferred, was that of one appeasing a paranoid. I didn’t help, probably, when I explained about the missing subtitle. I felt, and must have seemed, defensive. She moved past me to look at the schedule, saying behind her, "It wasn’t that I didn’t trust you or anything like that." "Oh, I know," I said, and in an attempt to prove it continued with, "I just thought you were trying to save yourself some work this weekend." Feigning (I hope) hurt, she said, "Oh, thanks a lot," and left for the front desk. I felt the fool, of course, and during that hour vowed to apologize for "impugning her character," though I hadn’t truly felt I had, but was clutching at character redemption. I knew she would say it was "nothing," at which I would say, "I know, but I need to salve my conscience." Even if I could have made that sound like a joke, though, I probably could not have helped but reveal my insecurity. I had to let it go. Not that I have. I just didn’t let on to Julie. Believe me, it’s still grinding my gears. I think today I may have crossed into Creepy Guy Country.

I hit the liquor store after work. I felt like a bottle of whisky. My birthday whisky didn’t make it halfway to the next one. With trepidation I bought a small one– a little sampler–of The Glenlivet for Julie. I thought, then, of sneaking it into her desk drawer on Monday. A calmer head has already prevailed. Tell me that wouldn’t have blown my cover! Apparently, I’m still apologizing. I got myself a bottle of Scapa. I’m still thinking I’ll give the little bottle to her, but on her birthday, and in the guise of Robert Carlyle ("Bobby C."), with a Gaelic salutation of "Slainte mhor!" I have time to find out "Happy Birthday" in Gaelic.