Last week I got a text from Mr Dickhead letting me know that he had joined the 21st century and had finally gotten an email address. Okay fair enough, keeping in touch with him via email is going to be a lot cheaper than texting him (though texting between us is a rarity now), so I bit, and asked for his email address.
There ensued a lot of faffing about, with him giving me the wrong email address and me finding out when I get a gazillion error messages letting me know that the email hadn’t gone through (thanks chariot and yahoo, but 1 message letting me know would have been enough). So I finally texted him yesterday to ask him what his actual email address is. (Though why I want it I really don’t know – I keep trying to stop contact with him but it just never happens *sigh*).
So here comes my post title into play. At the ungodly hour of 4:30am this morning I get a text from him with his email address. Now Mr Dickhead isn’t stupid (well okay in some respects he is, but in time differences he’s not) and he know’s better, so all I can think is that he timed that text perfectly. So I text him back – 1 line – You woke me up! His response to me – You woke me with yours this morning. Now we’re even.
Mr Dickhead had sat there waiting all day to text me back until he could wake me up. Now if that is not childish I don’t know what is. So that people is why I am so tired today. And why I really don’t want to go to the gym tonight (even though I am going). Then I’m going to contemplate waking Mr Dickhead up again and making sure my phone is off so he can’t respond…..
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