Dear Yahoo Instant Messenger Part II:

You are now enabling my totally inappropriate innuendos with my coworker from the comfort of my bed. At least when you were confined to the office, there was a sense of propriety and decorum enveloping me that prevented me from saying anything that would look bad if a boss walked by and read the screen over my shoulder. My being on my bed just leads my mind to bad, wonderful places. On the other hand, with twenty-five miles between him and me, I don't run the immediate risk of pulling him into a dark corridor and climbing on top of him. The sexual tension is getting a little out of control, though, and I fear (hope?) that when you arrange a meeting between him, me, and Mr. Tequila, I might not even bother looking for the cover of darkness before jumping his bones.

Future me is a total bitch,
R

PS Screw the innuendos, we're into "what are you wearing?" territory now. Nice. I mean, bad. But nice.

PPS Using you for come-ons with the coworker while inviting the estranged b/f for a visit? God, when did I get so hot and irresistible?