Boys R Dumb

I got a text today from a colleague with whom I have a love/hate relationship. It said, ‘Janet, what IS your deal anyway?’

Because I freelance, I often go for many months without seeing certain people face to face. When starting a new job it’s quite common to see friends who have gained weight, got divorced, grown a beard (men, mostly), had a kid, or joined AA.

This text was from a colleague I haven’t seen since last summer. At that time, he’d looked at me wide-eyed when I showed up with super-short hair. And not cute-short either. Just short-short, in a weird way.

Next week I’ll be seeing him when I start the new job. My hair is far better, but I’m carrying around an extra 15 pounds, which frankly, is mostly hidden under an empire waist, or if I’m desperate, a maternity top.

But this is a six-month job, and I’ll be leaving after five weeks to get my new rack.  So he’s curious. And passive-aggressive. And frankly, when it comes to putting 2 + 2 together, some boys can are a bit dumb and will come up with a 3. Or a banana.

So when I got a text out of the blue I knew that he was curious. And it hasn’t occurred to me to tell the truth. (Why start now?) I withheld all my canceritis information from the general public, so I really REALLY don’t want to start talking about reconstructive surgery to just anyone.

My story is going to be this. I’m having knee surgery. I haven’t researched this – so I don’t know the recovery time from a knee operation, but nor does anybody else. And this guy is squeamish so it’ll only take a mention of ‘cartilage’ and ‘ complications’ for him to change the subject.

If only girls were so simple.