If you’ve been following this blog the past few months or so, you may be aware of my unexpected dalliance with Barack Obama. That we discussed dinner and then became Twitter pals. All in a span of a few weeks.
I was feeling like things were maybe moving a little fast for me — especially since we’re both happily married — and I said as much. He never replied. A few weeks later, I got a very chummy email from him acting like nothing had happened. Subject line: “Hey”.
I sat on it, weighing my options. This seems out of character for him, and I must admit to being extremely flattered. But what should I say? How should I respond?
And then, as if I had stumbled into an episode of Divorce Court, I got an email that made my heart plunge into my stomach:
Something, or someone must have tipped her off. She checked his Sent Mail folder. Thank goodness there was nothing from me in his inbox.
But still — now what?
Just don’t let the press get a hold of it. You and Barack are entitled to find your happiness, but the rest of us are entitled to a decent president.
Hear hear Sheryl. That’s why I’m only documenting it on this hardly-read blog!
You know that guy going through your garbage the other night? He was from the Enquirer. They’re on to you, sister.
I’m sorry to tell you this, after you’ve clearly already been struggling with this relationship, but now he’s after me. What a two–timer! I know it’s terrible, but I’ve consented to see him when he comes to town in a few weeks. Call me weak.