I think I'm Paranoid~

He still calls me Jamie-o

I had another weird dream with him in it. He was still a bit of a jerk, so at least that was accurate.
But then there was there was his cheek pressed to mine. Then his lips pressed to my cheek.
What the fuck?

I was fine most of the day. Sometimes I'd remember the dream. Fucking weird. But was distracted by work.
The last 15 minutes of my shift was... awkward.
(The word Awkward is awkward.)
He was walking around the store. Around the same general area of where I was doing re-shops.
My brain is a masochist.
(Try not to freak out)
Maybe he knew... something. I don't know.
(The lack of sleep has made me paranoid)
Maybe he was suspicious.
...
The nickname amuses me. Even if it is stupid.

If I go crazy than will you still call me Superman?~

Dude. Spider (because I still haven't come up with a better name for him)Is the only person in the whole world who calls me Jamie-o.
Stupid nickname? Yes. But he's the only one who's given me a nickname that isn't James.
It's kinda pathetic on my end. Even if I wanted to be interested, I can't.
I'm still getting used to the idea that I can have a guy friend without automatically having a crush on him. It's weird. I'm weird. I'm having a really weird time trying to explain this, and the more I try, the weirder it gets.

Had a moment at work today. I didn't loose those keys. I either hook them on my apron or I place them on a counter. I know damn well that I put them on that podium. I know because I remember my thought process. That the girl would need the keys, but she wouldn't hold on to them. So I put them where she'd placed them before. On the podium.
So how did they end up under the counter at the front desk?
Sure, I'd been behind the counter plenty of times, but we have cigarette keys back there, so I didn't need a set. Even if I'd had them and taken them off my apron, I would have put them on  the counter, not under it.
Maybe I'm haunted. Not the first weird thing to happen to me. I could deal with a haunting better than schizophrenia. At least if I was haunted, I'd still have my mind intact.

And that weird shit the other post? With the shit running along the walls and ceiling? Hasn't happened again since. I told L, but I don't think they did anything about it. I'm sure she would have told me if someone had been down to check for pests. Things would have been moved.
I haven't seen Henry around either, for that matter.

Now where the fuck did I put that car title?