Tied

 

 

I need sleep. 

 

In the past 2 days I've exactly 2 hours sleep.  And they were between 5:30 and 7:30 this morning.

 

So it's now 8:30 at night and Donna just went home.  Today was, horrible, to put it mildly.  We've had our differences in the past but we've never been at each other's throat like we were today.

 

We just picked at each other, all day.  Bantering was non-existent, we were barely civil to each other.

 

So here I am now, sitting back in my chair with my feet propped up on the windowsill. I think I look pretty ridiculous. I have my bow tie around my knee, trying in vain to learn how to tie it, cause after this morning I don't think Donna's going to be doing it for me anymore.

 

And let's face it; her tying my tie was more than just, well, her tying my tie.  It was a ritual, one that we both looked forward to.  A ritual that was much more intimate than either of us would ever admit to. I've lost count of the number of times I've almost leaned over and kissed her while she was winding my tie into a perfect, well, almost perfect bow. I think sometimes she screws it up just to have to do it again.

 

So anyway....

 

When I woke up on my couch in my office this morning I was still dressed from the dinner last night.  I was covered up with my coat and of course missing my tie but still had on my tuxedo pants and shirt, including cuff links, which made for a pretty nasty mark on my cheek when I woke up.

 

I heard Donna come in the room a few minutes before I actually got up. Now normally she would have knelt down next to the couch, brushed back my hair and woke me up nicely.  But not this morning.  And I guess I didn't really blame her.  I was pretty cold to her last night.  And while I really think my words and actions were called for, it doesn't keep me from feeling both guilty and hurt.

 

Anyway, I heard her drop something on my desk before opening the blinds and flicking on the overhead lights.  She said "Josh get up" in a voice that was so void of emotion  it was scary.  She slammed the door a little too hard and went back to her desk.  I hauled myself off the couch and sat at my desk.  There was a note in her distinctive handwriting.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joshua,

 

Oscar Wilde once said---

 

A well-tied tie is the first serious step in life.

 

You'd better start learning.

 

Donna

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

As if that wasn't a big enough hint, she downloaded some instructions on tying a bow tie from the Ask Jeeves site.

 

Guess that's her way of telling me I'd better learn how to tie it myself.

 

I threw everything in my drawer, including the two bow ties, one perfectly tied and the other rumpled and undone.

 

I grabbed my extra set of clothes from my closet and went to the locker room to shower and change.  As I passed by Donna she was on the phone. The look on her face gave new meaning to the phrase---fit to be tied.

 

A hot shower and a clean suit did little to make me feel better.  In fact, every time I saw Donna my stomach became tied up in knots.  As a result I ate very little today.  And Donna didn't even bug me about it.

 

Which in turn bugged me.

 

After last night things calmed down a great deal around here, leaving me with plenty of time today to relive and rehash the conversation with Donna.

 

I know I came across as being a jerk, really I do.  When she first mentioned a date I was shocked cause she didn't tell me about it before she had it.  Probably cause she was sick of me sabotaging them.

 

From shocked I went right into disbelief that she would date someone who I was professionally at odds with, after that, well, it was time to move on to pissed as hell.  But not pissed at Donna, although I was angry, I was more pissed at myself for how I treated her.  I treated her as if she was an idiot.  Of course she knew that she couldn't see him again, that it would be a big conflict of interest, for everyone involved. She knew that and she felt she had to tell me about him anyway.  She didn't have to, nobody saw them.  But she took the high road and came clean. So what did I do?  I went and treated her like a child.

 

"You can go home now." 

 

I think that's probably the nastiest thing I have ever said to her.  And believe me, I said my share of nasty things.  But usually my nasty comments just sort of roll off her back and we're back to normal banter mode in an hour or two.  But not this time.  It's gonna take much longer than that.  And I have this suspicion that things are going to get worse before they get better.

 

I just realized that our conversation tied up a few loose ends about why she turned up drunk at my front door a few nights ago.  I am pretty sure the name of the Republican gomer is Cliff.  And that she found out he had been reassigned to House Oversight the night they met.  That would also explain why she kept grabbing my shirt during the press conference.

 

Usually when mysteries like this get tied up in neat little packages I feel better.  But now I just feel sick.

 

Not for nothing, but a few months ago we were hand in hand at the Bartlet farm.  What happened to that?  Why is Donna now dating a... a Republican gomer who is out to get me and those around me.  Probably has something to do with the fact that I haven't actually, ya know, asked her out or anything.

 

Wow, I haven't been paying the least amount of attention to the bow tie that is currently around my knee and what do you know, I've managed to tie a somewhat reasonable bow.

 

So why is it that I feel like my hands are tied behind my back?

 

Cause I don't know where to go from here.  I don't know what to say to Donna. I don't know how to act.  I'm pretty sure flowers aren't a good idea right now but I need to do something.  I'm at the end of my rope and I'm slipping fast.

 

So I will take some advice from FDR who said----When you get to the end of your rope, tie a knot and hang on.

 

I just hope the knot I tie in my rope is better than the one that just come undone from around my knee.

 

It's getting late so I think I'll go home and do the only thing that seems reasonable about now.  I'm going to ignore my delicate system, take out the bottle of scotch and tie one on.

 

THE END

 

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