San Francisco part I

 While I know this is debatable, I need to tell the whole Mischief story, and trust me, I'm doing this for me as it helps me getting in touch with reality. So, here's another portion.

Once I got the news that I did not need to have a massive surgery, I decided that it was time to get some help on the weight loss journey, beyond ChatGPT which is very dear t me, but has its limitations. I went to see a doctor who is very well known, in the hope that he would maybe give me a GLP1. Although he did not, he gave me a diet that I'm actually enjoying, making sure to include lots of things I love and that I find satisfying.

I got there in late March, and I was 71kg (BMI 24.6), and I'll have to go again next Tuesday. 

Work was a bit peculiar in April, I had few projects, all more complex than they were worth, so a bit unsatisfying. I knew I was thinking too much about Mischief but told myself to just drop it, as I was never going to see him again in my life. I was (and still am) training a lot, I have upgraded my routine to include some weights on top of the elliptical machine, and on Thursdays I do HIIT at the park outside my place with a personal trainer and a small group of 4-5 people.

In early April I found out that I was going to San Francisco in the first week of May, and in the chat that Mischief had set up with me and Carlos we had promised to update each other on travels, so I did mention this. Mischief replied immediately "I can arrange plans to meet there". Then he disappeared for a couple weeks which admittedly kind of lowed my spirits. I remember biking to work one morning and telling myself that I had been dreaming, that he certainly had not been giving me the eye, and to move on with my life. I even kind of managed to do so.

I was on the verge of buying my plane tickets without further considerations, when he resurfaced and started texting me outside the chat. As my agenda was super packed from breakfast to dinner from Monday to Wednesday, and I wanted to set up a couple extra meetings on Wednesday afternoon when my main purpose of travel would be over (and my other European colleagues were flying back), he suggested to meet for dinner on Wednesday and I thought this was a good plan allowing me to meet the bankers I wanted to see while there, as there were no convenient flights back on Wed night, I would fly back on Tuesday afternoon. Mischief being Mischief he also set up a few meetings on Thursday (read: he went to see Nvidia guys) and thus the plan was settled.

I had never been to San Francisco, and travelled there with French colleagues, which I love because French is much easier than English for me and they are really two fun guys. Once landed on Monday, we had a couple hours to spare and walked to Pier39 to see the sea lions (that I had never seen in my life and man I loved them!!!!), and the long walk really helped me start the week on the right foot with almost no jet lag. The days flew by and in an eyeblink it was Wednesday afternoon. I wrapped up my meetings, and walked back to the hotel - it was a lovely warm day, and Mischief was texting me about dinner plans, and I wrote him "I've literally spent the last two days seating - can we just walk around a bit and grab something casually? I swear that if you told me let's skip dinner and grab something from a food truck I would be delighted" and he said that sounded great. I showered, looked at the classy, feminine and expensive top I had brought with me for the occasion, and instead I wore a man button down shirt, the usual kind I wear at work these days, with some white linen trousers and my black leather jacket. I literally had no idea on Mischief's motives to be there, and I thought it made more sense to just show him the same exact version of me he'd seen in Mountain View. Well, at least I was 67kg (148lbs), so roughly 15lbs less than I was at such time.

At 5PM I was in the lobby when he came - he saw me, smiled and hugged me tight - and at that point I thought "All is good, he really wants to be friend with me". 

We stepped out and started walking randomly and picked up the conversation as if Mountain View had finished 2 hours earlier instead of 2 months earlier. At some point we stopped at a nice place, sat at the bar drinking Sancerre for a while and we were having a blast. We got a table and a beef tartare and Mischief got some shrimps and I was teasing him endlessly on his eating non kosher food. All was good but I started having mixed feelings about what was going on, not in a bad way, but I was unable to read the situation. Once food was finished and we were finishing our wine and that is when the neurodivergent me straightly said: "Let me ask you a question: did you come here to fuck me?"

Song for this post: "Supergirl" in the Della Chaos version

Derailed rumblings of an M&A consultant

Last week we finalized the purchase of the flat.

We'll be moving in within 2 months - we need to have some changes done in the inside, and we have already ordered furniture.

I am looking forward to that, but I'm so exhausted that I have a hard time thinking that I shall move utilities to the new house. Work has really been overwhelming and, from an emotional standpoint, draining. It seems I might be making it to equity partner in June - please do not cheer, it's too early.

Meanwhile, I won a huge engagement for my top client, the same one I mentioned in the post "Sometimes" back in September.

Sometimes, but only sometimes, they call me every other month or so for a quick chat. It gets awkward over time, because I'm less and less part of their lives. I never was really, I know little of their life outside work. Sometimes the project lasts for years, and it's harder to let go, even for me. Sometimes there is even a new project, and suddenly they realize that when this one will be over, we'll probably never see each other again. And you end up with bleary eyes on both sides, because you'll miss each other.

 Trouble is, the corporation is the same, but V (he) is not officially involved this time. Working for them has always been draining, but the upside was working with him. Now that he's officially not involved, this project has been a mess so far and promises to get worse.

So after talking to him about twice a week over the phone for the last 2 months, we went out for drinks. As soon as I stepped into the wine bar and saw V, I knew it was a mistake. I don't care I said in past I don't think he's an attractive man, it was like a pheromones path led straight to him. The conversation kept derailing between work and personal matters. I don't even know how I ended in his arms outside the bar, my eyes searching his ones, knowing I was going to regret this but practically begging for him to kiss me.

I woke up all grumpy at my sister in law house and the dream was so vivid I spend the morning wondering about him, stalking V's wife social media profiles and finally sending him a message on whatsapp (about professional matters). V is in London, we are in lockdown, I've certainly not been outside a bar without a mask, nor inside any batr at night, for the past 4\217986\287963947194\834629\7 years or at least that's what it feels like, and I'm certainly not involved with V.

By lunch time I was all over my husband, in love with him to the moon and back.

Night falls and V calls me. The conversation sticks to professional matters for the most, and he tells me a number of things that spark my anxiety. Finally he says the new company they'll incorporate will be based in London but operating in Milan and I ask him if he's moving back to ITaly or not, and he says he'll stay in London. Which is probably for the best.

Next week I have my final interview for the equity partnership admission process. IF that goes well, I'll have to fork out €100,000 in July . not sure where I'm going to find this kind of money considering how much I've thrown into the new flat but we'll see.