Warning: Self-Pitying Post Ahead

I keep trying to look on the positive side: although it took half-an-hour of staring at the phone, I managed to overcome my shyness and actually call her.

Which is more like a positive edge on a double-sided billboard of despair than a side, but I suppose it's marginally better than nothing. Marginally.

And, just to make things worse, I have this awful feeling that I ended the conversation rather impolitely. Not intentionally, obviously. She was being so nice after she had to let me down gently, wanting to know what I was getting up to and so on, but my brain was no longer able to form coherent sentences. So in order to save myself from total humiliation, I told her that I had to go (or something like that - my memory of the conversation is already becoming hazy), and that was the end of that. Of course, I'll probably never see her again; I can't apologise, so I feel quite bad about that.

The moral of the story? At the moment, I'm leaning towards "never trust anything when alcohol is involved". Or "don't leave it four days next time, idiot." The last one has an air of unwarranted optimism.

Now I'm going to return to my iTunes playlist of "The Most Depressing Songs In The World...Ever!" (with a running time of seven hours, fact fans)