45 hours... 24 hours in a day, that's one day, 21 hours... so...

*tries to do math, not easy when somewhat tipsy still*

...and it's 3:00 right now, nearly 3:15 as I write this, and not likely to start actually until 3:30, I suppose...

At 12:30 AM, Saturday morning, Pacific time, then. That's 45 hours from now.

*blinks*

Gods, that's a long time.

He's pretty, yes. Talented, certainly. And gods know he's got a way with words, impressive considering. But the real question:

Is he trainable? Does he actually LEARN from his mistakes? Is he worth training?

More to the point, is there any real point in my attempting to train him?

I'm not sure yet. I'll know the answer in 45 hours, I suppose.

And yes, before anyone points it out, I know he's not mine. *shrugs* Not yet. Not yet. I don't give up on things I truly want and believe me, I want him. I want to fall asleep knowing he is mine, I want to wake up knowing he is mine, I want that little happy thrill that makes every moment seem just a bit brighter and better. I want to be able to call him mine. Mine. *sighs softly* I want him.

And although I don't know if I will get what I want in this case... *shrugs softly* ...ehh. We will see.

45 hours.

That's a LONG time.