Not That Subtle
Out at dinner with some friends this weekend one of the girls (who knows very little about the current state of Bill-ness) asked, "Are you and Bill 'over?'"
"What do you mean? Where'd you get that idea?"
"Oh, it was something you said, or tweeted. I just got the impression that you weren't speaking to him or something."
"Well," I said, trying to keep the exact situation contained to a smaller group, "I guess I'm just letting things go where they go." You know, I didn't add, go where they go after I stab them to death.
My guess? It was the email I sent out organizing my birthday party—his name was conspicuously absent from the invite list.
"What do you mean? Where'd you get that idea?"
"Oh, it was something you said, or tweeted. I just got the impression that you weren't speaking to him or something."
"Well," I said, trying to keep the exact situation contained to a smaller group, "I guess I'm just letting things go where they go." You know, I didn't add, go where they go after I stab them to death.
My guess? It was the email I sent out organizing my birthday party—his name was conspicuously absent from the invite list.