this is a bad idea. let's do it anyway.

Oh, hello August and your intense desire to make me question my existence. I get solemn and even my annoying coworker asks me what is wrong. I'm just trying to tune her out.

Hot Girl Summer had been going quite well. Has been. Is been. *(I am on my phone so the cadence and lengthiness will be different and typos will be rampant.)*

A month ago I sat around the fire with a couple of girlfriends and talked about everything under the sun while drinking everything under the sun while sitting under the moon. It might have been enough for July, to have that comraderie, community, confessional time. It made me look forward to when their husbands are dead and we can live together or side by side as golden girls.

I tried to capture the expansiveness of that soul filling night in a poem but it failed. I was even so present that I didn't know where my phone was and did not take a single photo. The whole fact and feeling of it lives solely in me. And hopefully my gal pals. 

A couple of weeks later I went to the small hippie wedding of a poetry friend where I didn't know any guests when I arrived but made mingling friends with two Pauls and a Jane. One Paul was very cute but very short and asked me to dance for a slow song and everyone was like aww thats so cool you guys danced. We also fast danced together, ate together, spotify dj'd together, chit chatted and and then he left me with just a hug in front of everyone. Was I supposed to chase him down and force my number on him?  Or was it just the two buck chuck fueling the wistful romantic clichés of a wedding? The bride and groom were together because she took the initiative to stalk him down after their initial meeting. 

I had Paul's last name (Jane was a good wing woman) so I stalked him on facebook to verify what I had heard. 33, a former touring punk band member, came home to start over as an IT student. Also apparently fairly Christian.  I probably used the lords name in vain as I am wont to do .

I held off on reaching out because that night ended with me phone chatting with my latest okcupid match Andrew for almost three hours and we had a date set for the next weekend and I wanted to avoid a love triangle. I also wanted to give a few days to see if Paul asked about *me.* 

Andrew is cute, days away from turning 37, also lives with his parents and tries to pull the "care taking" card even though they are always yelling at him in the background.  He's divorced but has a good job history and the only legal hiccups were around the divorce. He doesn't drink and drive so instead of him coming to my town for our date, I went to him.

This was a bad idea.

He really had no excuse for starting to drink Saturday afternoon. They hazily wound from his sister being in town, to us not having a firm enough plan, to being nervous about meeting me. While I was disappointed I didn't let him cancel and flipped it to me picking up what I thought was going to be a slightly buzzed man but turned out to be one HAMMERED motherfucker by the time I picked him up.

We attempted to go to Texas Roadhouse but they were out of rolls so I led him out of there before poor Joey could ever come back for our order. We went to the movies instead where I had to help him get his credit card in the slot and told him to "Stay" when I went to the bathroom. The teenagers working might have thought I was a good person for taking my handicapped brother out for the evening.

You'd think he would have been sober after a 2 hour movie and he was better but not 100%. He got a bit better after some George Webbs. 

He's incredulous that I'm still talking to him. I don't know, he's cute and humble, kinda funny. Says sorry all the time, so likely damaged.  I told him I'll give him another chance to show up here sober but if he's always sloppy,  I'll take the hint. 

And I added Paul on Facebook.  He messaged me "hey Cindy!" and I messaged back "hey Paul!" That was two days ago. Our connection might have just been under the influence of wine t. He's damaged in his own way: covid killed his dream and now he's living with his parents and starting over. 

IT'S LIKE I HAVE A TYPE. and my type is a version of myself. 

So all this and some other stuff is going on and its like all of a sudden I am thinking, *wait, have I been hot all along?* which is kind of fucking with me because I am also at my heaviest weight ever. I don't really think I'm hot but I'm starting to realize things such as I do not only exist through my perception.  

But on the flip side of things, I'm also feeling like shit. I have no lung capacity, I am out of shape and am embarrassingly out of breath when I walk up the stairs at work. I keep trying to convince myself to do the bare minimum. A walk around the block. Maybe even just to the corner and back. But its so hot. So humid. And I am one easily sweaty lady. I have been eating like a toddler. My desire to not do dishes has me hitting the drive thru or eating easy foods like grilled cheese and air fryer chicken nuggets on paper plates. Decent halfway healthy foods require planning and heat and dirtying all the dishes then leaving them sit until a work from home day. I am sick of summer hours. Spending three months going to work an hour early every day just so I can have off on Friday afternoons wherein I mostly nap out of exhaustion? Boo. 

A fall/winter boyfriend might do me some good. Get me out and moving around, a little sexercise, a reason to clean up, someone to cook for who might help me with dishes. Adderall might have the same effect if the end of October would ever frickin get here.

The gist is that I am uncomfortable but nothing new there.

Like the veggie burgers I left on the counter overnight, I wonder if this can truly go bad?

Now that the country is slowly returning to normal I am realizing what it is that I have been not missing.  I have not missed working in an office.  I have not missed all-day interruptions from and feeling uncomfortable in my own skin.  And whose idea was it to return to work in the summer, when I have to schlepp across the parking lot in 90 degree heat & humidity, to the back of the building, up the stairs, and to the back of the wing while wearing black dress pants and a polyester shirt so I am a nice sweaty ball of breathiness and fatness?  

Sometimes, if nobody is looking, I take the elevator.

We're not even there full time yet.  Two days a week.  One of those days my co-worker is also there next to me, narrating everything she does out loud so that I have to constantly pull my earbuds out and look at her to see if she's talking to me.  Sometimes she is.  Most of the time, she's not.  

I go in on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  She does Tuesdays and Wednesdays.  I was going to make Wednesdays my third day in July and she's going to make Thursdays hers, but that would mean working next to her three days in a row.

"I think I might make Fridays my third day," I told my boss.  I'm sure she knows but it's one of those things that I don't know if I'm allowed to voice.  My boss is five years from retirement, and the co-worker guesstimates she has about three years left.

By September we'll all be there five days a week, so I'm just delaying the inevitable.

Isolation was good for me.  It was a break from societal expectations, of feeling self-conscious.  Now I am feeling submerged right back into the diet & wellness culture with the co-worker saying things like, "do you know how many calories are in those pop-tarts?" and feeling like anything I eat has to be healthy because everyone else is watching.  Are they?  Maybe.  If they are judging, it really only has to do with their own internal food issues and body shame.

I have definitely noticed I am more likely to snack in the office than I am when I am working at home.  I will chalk that up to ADHD.  One of the elements is needing constant stimulation/dopamine hits hence the easily distracted behaviors.  When I am at home and I feel the need to change things up, I go out for a cigarette or vacuum or tidy up the kitchen.  Because I don't really have friends at my new job yet (if I did, I might also be prone to interrupting them with idle chit chat to cure my boredom), I go in my designated snack drawer for pop tarts or granola bars.  

I mean, it's a cheese company for crying out loud.  A lot of my insecurities are self-perceived, I'm sure.  Maybe the first time people see me they might think "woah" and then they just get used to you.  I'm doing the same thing.

Here's a confession:  This draft has been sitting here for ten days and I don't know how I feel about it anymore.  

My job is fine.  It's a beautiful building filled with art and cheese and wellness culture and relaxation rooms and yoga classes will come back and I'll just get used to walking up stairs again by the end of the summer, maybe I'll go walk the walking path outside through the Sunflower Berm, monarch garden and Italian orchard.  I average one gift every time I go to the office.  There's a fucking 2pm Gelato break in the courtyard.  It's actually quite wonderful.  I am slowly starting to act like a human again.  I just don't want to weird people out.

I've been listening to the Breath book and getting my usual excitement at the prospect of a new lifestyle spurred by a single self-help book.  You're supposed to breathe slower.  Or faster.  Depends on what you're trying to do.  But empty your diaphragm.  Don't mouth breathe.  I downloaded a sleep tracking app and paid $20 for the year and it records when you snore in the night but there seems to be a two minute limit and maybe a ten times limit, but just listening to the horrible horrible noises I am making in my sleep are enough to confirm that I should not spend the night in any lover's beds.  Make a hasty exit lest he discovers that I sound like an elephant with a bird stuck in its trunk.  My "occasional" cigarette smoking has been creeping up so I haven't smoked since Sunday (a secret Father's day gift for my pops), bought mouth tape and I have been practicing my slow and empty breaths.

Speaking of father's day, my dad had a heart catherization scheduled for yesterday which turned out all fine, his existing stent was replaced and no new ones, but he was a little anxious on Sunday and I was being an accidental dick and decided that it would be a good time to talk about family history and how everybody died.  He said his mom died because she was too fat and had diabetes.  That's not really a cause of death.  He wanted to say something about my weight, he tried, but I have yelled at him before so I could see him trying to restrain himself.  I almost wish he had so I could point out, "but you aren't as fat as I am, and you have heart and cholesterol issues so maybe it's more hereditary bucko?"  He didn't say it in person but later texted me that he was sorry, and I said I was sorry back.  

I started a dad rant blog post a few weeks ago but didn't post it because I'm glad my dad is alive even if he pisses me off sometimes.  I think I have just come to realize that my dad is just a guy who probably doesn't know everything, he just acts like he does.  I had a thought the other day of, "what if my dad is NOT THE ONLY GOOD MECHANIC that exists in the world?"  I have been under the assumption that they all will screw you over.  I don't know.  My dad provides free labor and parts at cost and he asks what I'm going to do when he dies and I just shrug and say I guess I'll have to get a brand new car with a service package.

Maybe I'll just get a bike.  If I don't have to leave town to visit my friends or family I have no need for a car.  Everything is here.  Even delivery.  

I think I'm ready to switch into the next intuitive eating phase where I don't try to lose weight but I magically do because my brain is fixed and I eat like a bird.  

Well this was enough of a warm up.  I was gifted a mock-moleskine hardcover notebook from work that I have decided is going to be a book for making lists so I need to go start some lists and I bought a women's ADHD workbook because waiting until 2022 to get started seems foolish.  

It's like I have some hopefulness!

You Can Have This While My Lasagna Bakes

I am so proud of myself for making lasagna and attempting to make gelato on the very last day before my ricotta cheese expires.  Now to drink the other half gallon of whole milk before it expires on Wednesday.

I went to the doctor/nurse inside our work clinic to ask for a referral to get ADHD tested.  I needed to get set up with a new GP anyway, so I had my annual molestation a bit earlier than expected.  She sent a referral down to Madison and then proceeded to ohhhh... not blatantly fat shame me but she is probably a third of my weight and I was very not comfortable in the paper gown that did not cover my back and the fact that the other nurse who came in while she was digging around doing the pap smear HELD MY THIGHS BACK WITH HER HANDS.  Bitch, I can spread my legs if you need me to.  It's one of my special skills.  You don't have to treat me like a pig you are inseminating on the farm.  

I don't know about this whole on-site work clinic thing.  I felt dangerously close to flashing my vagina to any one of the co-workers I don't know yet who could possibly be walking by or at the very least out in the parking lot.  That and they couldn't get my blood so I had to go to the local hospital the next day for the blood draw.

Everything is normal blood wise.  A round of antibiotics to clear up some discharge and now my vulva is like vodka -- odorless and tasteless.  (Here I just thought it smelled like vagina before.)

So I got the referral and called Madison, got transferred back and forth a few times between nueropsychopathy and behavioral psychology and got an 11am zoom appointment at the end of October.  This didn't seem right since Char told me that it was one day thing.  So I sent a follow up email on my chart to question it and got a reply that the 11am appointment was for an initial screening, they would give me some questionnaires for my significant others and then decide if I should be tested.  Um, then why the fuck did I have to get a referral?  

Oh god, and I've heard about the questionnaires... can the cats take it?  "She forgets to feed us unless we remind her!"  If it's for my parents, I don't know how that's going to go.  Hopefully their narcissism comes across?  I'm sure they've dealt with that before, parents who don't believe in psychology who think you just need to try harder or they are in denial about their own symptoms?  (Oh my dad totally has it, 300%.)  James used to say I had ADD, but I'm pretty sure he has me blocked across all platforms and/or has changed his number.

And so I wait 5 months to be screened.  I cried out of frustration.  Wait, I procrastinated and finally accomplished this and now you are going to make me wait EVEN LONGER?  Then probably another five months after that to be tested.  IT NEEDS TO BE NOW.  If I can muster up the focus maybe I can see if I can find something outside of insurance and pay cash?  Depending on the cost?  

It's summer, it will go fast.  And even though today is the unofficial first day of summer, it also has a foreboding last day of summer break feeling because tomorrow is going to be my first full day working in the office and I am freaked the fuck out.  We are on summer hours, so starting early in order to have Friday afternoons off, so I have to have my ass in my chair by 7am tomorrow morning.  Can you feel the face that I am making as I type that?  They haven't rolled back the mask policy yet (waiting for guidance from OSHA).  Thankfully nobody is really enthusiastic about going back, so we are easing into it part-time.  Two days a week in June, three days a week in July and four days a week in August -- mostly so we don't have to bother with Fridays.  

My summer project -- which I typically start and never finish -- is to explore my new city and finally check out all the shops, parks, festivals, restaurants, museums, et cetera.  Being fully vaccinated, I have spent the last couple of weekends gallivanting around maskless and I think I caught a cold.  I forgot about colds.  I haven't had one since last year.  So there's that.

Let's see... the weather has been quite bipolar.  Today is a perfect low humidity 73 but the last few weeks it's either been 90 or 45.  I think next weekend is going to be 90 and I will regret not mowing my lawn this weekend but ..... I didn't feel like it and it's not bad but by Wednesday it will be bad.  

Speaking of bipolar, I haven't seen but have still been texting with both fellers. I keep hearing about this "Hot Girl Summer" thing, is that the same as One Horny Summer?  But I feel like I just got my vagina fixed and now I don't want to mess it up.  It's like when you finally vacuum your car.  As soon as the first french fry falls down the crevice between the seat and the console, it's only a matter of days until the whole thing is a mess again.

I was walking into a gas station yesterday and a girl said to me, "wow, you have really pretty eyes."  I had just woken up from a nap and my eye makeup was smeared and my hair was disheveled but it felt cute so maybe it was.  Is it time to switch teams?  

Took a lot of naps this weekend.  Hoping my sleep schedule is finally readjusted.

The lasagna alarm is sounding.

Well I was out of foil so the top layer of cheese burnt but que sera. Crunchy cheese is good too.

#lasagnathirtysomewhere

American Mental Health Care at it's Finest

Because ADHD, a few weeks ago I finally made a phone call to see about getting scheduled for an ADHD evaluation.  We have a medical employee assistance hotline and I figured they would be the best place to start.  I have been procrastinating on making that call mostly out of nerves and getting distracted by work and texting boys and scrolling facebook for an hour every time I pick up my phone to make a call.

Lady at Employee Assistance Hotline:  "We don't do that, we do short term counseling, but I can transfer you to a psychiatrist's office."

Psychiatrist Office:  "Is this for you or a child?  We only do people under 21 but I can transfer you to Char who can schedule appointments for adults."

Char:  "Hi this is my voicemail at 4pm on a Friday, leave me a voicemail."

Char calls back on a Tuesday or Wednesday.  "Well I can schedule you here in town but I'm just going to let you know that we are booking into January of 2022 and it will be three appointments.  Or I can transfer you to Madison.  They are booked about eight weeks out."

Madison:  "We need a referral from a physician or therapist before we can even start to schedule you."

Me, two weeks later, calling the last shrink I saw and discussed ADHD with, who told me that meditation is better than medication but I can't create routines because ADHD, who never answers her phone, so I leave her a voicemail:  "Hi this is Cindy, I was wondering if you would possibly be willing to write me a referral for ADHD testing?  If this is something you are willing to do, please call me back."

No call back.

Me, two more weeks later, calling Gigi, my former therapist from before I moved.  "Oh hi Cindy, it's so good to hear from you and hear you're doing well.  What do you need?  I can't write you a referral, I don't even have an open file on you.  Karen should be able to do that.  Why do you need a referral?  Can't you self-refer?  That's kind of outdated."

I already broke up with Karen, my prior primary care nurse practitioner from my old town because I live and work here now and it's just not practical.  The place I'm trying to get referred to is in a different network and after I read her notes I feel like she is fatphobic and dismissive so I really don't want to get roped back in with her.

So I finally made an appointment at my new job's clinic for a Well Woman Exam so I can meet the nurse on-site, discuss these things, establish a repour with her and see if she'll refer me.  Don't know how I feel about being naked while my co-workers are potentially in the next room, but this is how we save copay money.

This is a lot of steps for an ADHD person to follow through on.  It's almost as if getting to the diagnostic stage proves you don't have it?  My impatience and wanting it to be done *now* is another symptom.  Even once scheduled I think I have to go on some evidence gathering missions to bring proof.  I did not find my high school report cards, I have a transcript somewhere but I need the ones with the comments that say "late assignments" & "has potential".  

I love the dismissive nature of friends and family.  The other day my dad was over and asking for a tape measure.  I have at least three but couldn't find any of them because they weren't where they were supposed to be.  "You probably got that from me," he said and I quipped, "yes, thank you for the ADD" and he was like "the what??" but I dropped it which was easy because he was too busy being impatient.

But Cindy... everybody has trouble concentrating.  Everybody is in debt, everybody is incapable of developing routines, everybody is messy and everybody loses things and leaves their car windows open with the keys in the ignition for 48 hours.  Everybody has a running dialogue in their brain that is constantly reminding them that they did their entire life wrong and that it's too late and has to listen to podcasts just to drown it out because listening to music is just a fucking time machine and/or they will just end up giving their neighbors a two hour long karaoke concert of Sarah McLachlan's Possession on repeat.  Everybody is like that, don't beat yourself up. And stop telling everybody about it, you are making us look bad.

One Horny Summer

 I had another first date last night with a fella I met while spite-swiping after the last first date.  Professor has been spending plenty of time on the app (thank you stalkery green dot for showing when someone is online) and being kind of withdrawn in answering my texts.  Instead of ruminating on it, I just said "next please" and ended up meeting a guy who is a couple years younger than me and much more type as in he is full of red flags and we spent two weeks oversharing through text messages.  Let's think of a psuedonyn for him hmmmmmmmmmmmm... Flag.  

Now because he managed to find me on facebook before I even told him my last name, and because of some very loose connections that may make it possible for my name to trace back to this blog, there is a slight possibility that Flag could read this.  I'm not about to eviscerate him in anyway but this is perhaps a more honest "review" than the one I have given him.  He asked for initial evaluations and I said that I had fun and would like to hang out again.  All true.  The problem?  The problem is that he has a grown out beard and hair (Pandemic) and while they are a nice beard and hair, my brain keeps screaming "oh my god, he looks just like my dad's friend Bowser" which played in my head on a loop.

I am not anti-beard but... I don't like those big long ones.  I also don't want to be that kind of woman who dictates what her man needs to look like.  I am the kind of woman who drops hints on what she would like her man to do with his appearance and hopes he is able to pick up on context clues and obliges.

So what are the red flags?  He is separated from his wife but they still live together and have not filed for divorce yet because insurance and pandemic.  He says they have been basically over for three years but just a few months ago he was posting lovey pictures of the two of them.  Apparently she's gone poly and has a new boyfriend and is encouraging him to date.  Also, his posts are a lot about being depressed and it came out one night that he is bipolar but not on meds, just weed, but was out of weed.  He has a job but has been on disability after dislocating his knee so he has nothing to do but check in with me all day.  He seems maybe prone to be a bit moody.  I mean, I can be too, but it also means that I would be codependent in trying to cheer him up and manage his mood and that isn't good for me.

White flags:  we have had long unfiltered conversations about everything from raping to being raped to traumatic childhoods to death of friends.  *slow realization* Oh shit, we were trauma bonding.  But he's funny and makes me laugh and I think I make him laugh.  He's quite tall and banged his head on my very short bathroom doorway.  Are these pluses?  Similar upbringing, similar senses of humor, taste in music and tv shows.  I think he'd be cool with poop talk.  Professor, probably not so much.

We messed around but didn't do it all the way.  There may have been a moment or two of just the tip and he may be beating himself up over that.  Had fitbit not told me that I was in my fertile window, it may have gone further but I'm guess I glad I didn't.  He tried to make me come, but that never happens a first time with someone.  It was fun nonetheless.

Professor did start texting me again, though not back to what it was.  He'd been preparing for a job interview, I guess I was a distraction.

I can't say for sure that either of these guys will be my next boyfriend.  The fact that everyone is lonely and horny post-pandemic might make for one horny summer that rivals that of 2017.  I wonder if my emotions are broken or  rusty but now I compare my experiences to James.  I wasn't 100% sure on our first date until we kissed.  But once we kissed, which was not until the very end,  I knew I loved him.  I also took a picture of him without him knowing.  That hasn't happened again yet.  I guess we'll see.  Should be an interesting summer.  

Lesson 7: Connections (this took me 2.5 hours and six pages of Word writing)

I have mostly stayed off the dating apps since last summer when it became apparent that anyone I was interested in was not really into going out because Pandemic, and the people that were interested in going out turned out to be recently released felons with neck tattoos.  I may have engaged in some banter, some online flirting, maybe some sexting but mostly I just enjoyed the freedom of being able to say "oh well, can't date right now because Pandemic" and having a perfectly acceptable reason to hunker down and develop a deep relationship with my couch.

(That is going to be my shorthand grammatically incorrect gesture for the rest of time.  Pandemic.  Or *pandemic*  or pandemic.)

Sometime around my first Moderna vaccine I pried open the now rusty OKCupid app.  It had been so long that I was essentially de-activated, as they had warned that they would take me off the market and I would receive no more likes!  Which was fine for me at the time, but meant that I had to get to work and start swiping right or left.  Sometimes I forget and swipe the wrong way and then have to quickly unmatch a goober.  Dating really is a video game.  Even when you do match with someone there is a little standoff to see who will message first, sometimes never, sometimes I send an unanswered hello, sometimes I delete them because I decide their hello feels too effortless.

Long story short, I matched early in the week with a guy who was cute and dorky and we actually had a good email exchange conversation all week long.  Thank god for working from home, right?  Friday he asked if we should switch to text or meet up so I gave him my number and away the texting went.  

By the next night we were having a zoom date after his daughter went to bed.  It was awkward because he looked different from his profile pics -- he had his long quarantine hair and had shaved and his profile photos were short dad hair and beard scruff.  He teaches from home so he had the dojo privacy screen in the background and wore a headset mic.  I started laughing because he looked like one of the online coaches in that awful at home weight loss program my health insurance made me take.  I think he was annoyed that I was just using my computer mic but I didn't care because I had wine and was witty and charming.

There were some awkward moments and I could tell that he was either super nervous or maybe a little on the spectrum?  I never got that vibe from his texts, but even I am more eloquent when writing than I am in person.  Turns out he has drank in his life and even smoked pot and made out with a girlfriend in high school.  He has his daughter full time, the mother is a state away, so absent but calls.  He asked if I wanted kids and I said well I don't know that it's possible anymore and he said, oh IVF is only like fifteen grand so my ears perked up at that.  Oh yeah, get this, he's a college sociology teacher, maybe a professor?  I think he has TAs and at least a masters, possibly a phd.  

So I forgive the few awkward moments because he actually has his shit together and is smart.  Smarter than me!  But I make a few jokes about my loser exes, I think to put him on a pedestal and let him know he might be saving me.  That's a thing, right?  Even if they don't know it, they need to feel like The Knight in Shining Armor.  He asks if I want to get together, he could make me dinner and then we could watch The Princess Bride since he mentioned it as one of his favorite movies and I think I seen it once as a kid.  He wants me to come soon, like Sunday or Monday night, and I tamper his eagerness with a reminder that I work early and he says, "well you don't have to stay the night" and I'm like "oh I KNOW" and that was super awkward.  

A date to watch a children's movie and hug and kiss was then scheduled for Friday, but got bumped to Saturday when his friends had made plans.  I was fine with it because Friday meant I'd have to rush around after work and traffic and I made an appointment to get my hair cut on Saturday and hoped he would too.  One night when we were texting about our plans he said something about needing a raincoat.  At that point I realized hugging & kissing might not be as wholesome as I imagined, I was like ummmm maybe just some golashes.

The hairdresser whom it was my first time seeing was appalled that I was going to his house.  "Well, it's an apartment," I explained "so if I scream the neighbors will hear."

"What if he chloroforms you first?" she pointed out, obviously a fellow Murderino.  "I know people who've been killed in apartments."

"You do?"

"I mean, I've heard of it."

We laughed.  "I was going to say you don't know them anymore! Besides, I already asked him if he was going to murder me.  I told him he had to tell me.  It's the law."

It was funny, you had to be there.  She was going to watch for me on the news.  I said it would be at least Monday before anyone realized I was missing.

Now, on to the actual date.  He lives where I have just moved from so it was a 45 minute drive and I decided to stop at Target to pee because I had been slamming a Frosé Rosé energy drink on my way there, and also I had lost my mascara, and also I did not have diarrhea but thought I should take an Immodium pre-emptively because Chinese Food (he decided to order take out instead of cooking).   

A mile from his house my dashboard started flashing all kinds of lights.  Service traction!  Traction error!  Engine disabled!  I coasted into a nearby gas station with a sinking feeling.  Oh God, I’m going to have to call my dad, I’m going to have to tell him I have a date, or do I have the guy come pick me up and call my dad tomorrow and explain that I had a date last night?  Do I get a tow?  I got out, opened the hood, checked the oil because I never check the oil.  Coolant appeared to be full.  Nothing was steaming.  Got back in, started right back up.  I had the a/c on to squelch my nervous sweat but switched it off and was on my merry little way.

I arrived shaken up and he opened the door in all his ponytailed glory, looking the same as he had on our zoom call.  Tall, but I knew that, collared shirt tucked in.  The Chinese food had already arrived since I was, of course, late.  A coffee creamer that I had stuck in my pocket when I was cleaning my car out had exploded and was slowly leaking onto my leg so the first thing I asked for was the garbage. 

“Not usually the first stop on the tour, but right here.” 

I made a joke about how if I smelled like sour milk later, this would be why, and we sat at this tiny makeshift table to the lo mein and crab Rangoon I had requested and some shrimp fried rice that is his favorite.  I didn’t eat much because the sweet and sour sauce was not the right kind and because I was trying to be dainty.  I did not recognize a look of disappointment in him about my body but also did not want to chance looking like a pig. 

Did I mention that he does not have a TV and is proud of that fact?  The living room was an array of desks for him and his daughter and a giant bean bag chair in which we both sat to watch the movie on one of the many computer monitors.  So it’s not that he doesn’t really watch TV, it’s a technicality because he has Netflix and watches things on his computer as does the daughter.  And there’s no room for a sofa.

Right away he had his arms around me and was doing all the caressing and touchy stuff while I was trying to get into The Princess Bride.  It’s very 80s.  So he’s getting all touchy and despite having my hand on his knee, I figured I should give him a little more to work with so I turned to look up at him to kiss him and the makeout session was on.  Does the princess end up getting saved?  I’ll never know.  (I actually have the dvd myself because it’s a “should” watch and I have probably had it for ten years without taking it out of the plastic.)

I managed to ask him to go to the bedroom because let’s face it, a couple of forty-somethings making out in a bean bag chair while watching an 80s movie on a computer monitor feels more like mom and dad getting frisky on parents weekend in the dorm instead of romantic first date.  He did at least have a bed!  On a frame!

It took a long time.  We stopped and talked a little in various states of undress and he had to take a break to call his daughter and say good night.  I asked if that was going to kill the mood and he said he is good at compartmentalizing.  She only knows about or meets women he’s dating if it’s really serious.  He asked if I was seeing or talking to anybody else and I said no.  Apparently he had been seeing someone in 2019, they took a break and she’s come back around, but they are not exclusive so he wasn’t cheating.  He only offered this up during the “how long has it been” conversation and he said “not that long”.  Oh gross, what if had been the night before?

We had sex, but not for long.  He thinks consent is sexy, so once we’re down to me completely naked being fingered I had to be like, “please”.  I know I was breaking the rule, but I figured if anything at least the seal had been broken on my quarantine virginity.  I told him it had been since last February, but in all blog honesty I had an extremely terrible embarrassing encounter the day before Thanksgiving that even I did not want to admit to. 

So while we were laying naked he asked if I’d ever been in love and I said I suppose so.  He says twice, with his high school girlfriend and his ex-wife who started referring to him as her first husband on their honeymoon.  We had all sorts of pillow talk and somehow I ended up telling my tall bar tales like the time I almost got a drunk driving.  I got up to put on my underwear to go pee (my belly does not need to be seen in the afterglow) and he got up and fully dressed as well. 

It’s hard to say, but there was a definite shift afterwards and while he offered to let me spend the night, it didn’t feel like he wanted me to and I wanted to avoid the awkwardness of the morning after.  We talked some more in his kitchen, a little more distant now, he told me his attachment style is usually avoidant but he worked on it and is better now.  I never would have guessed up to that point. I told him how I used to think I was a love addict but it might have been the ADHD and we kind of got into therapy talk and I feel like I shared too much about my family.  I’m starting to think that my memoir could be called, “Stories That Shouldn’t Be Told On a First Date”.  But once I get into confessional mode, it all comes pouring out.  Vomited vulnerability, post-coitus style.

He also asked me if I wanted kids again, so apparently he didn’t remember batting an eye at the cost of IVF? He also has a framed photo of himself at his masters graduation and commented on how handsome he was.  And at the beginning of our make out session he breathily asked if I wanted to kiss him as soon as I saw him and since I did not, I breathily laughed and kissed him more so I wouldn’t have to lie.  I told him about graduating from alcoholics to narcissists and then asked if he was a narcissist and he said no, but *that is exactly what a narcissist would say.*

Still, as I made the move to leave, he was already making plans for next weekend.  I said since my car is being iffy, maybe he could come to me.  He promised to come rescue me if said car did not make it and asked me to text him when I got home.  I made it just fine, except for the judgmental cats yelling at me for being out until midnight.

Since he had said something about how I could text him in the mornings (it was usually him initiating the morning’s conversation), I sent him a meme on Sunday morning.  He was kind of quiet most of the day which is typical for the day after, especially since his daughter had been gone for two nights, and he was having a birthday lunch at his mom’s and yadda yadda. 

Sunday night I could not get to sleep.  I seem to be having these nights more and more often where I’m dozing in and out of consciousness, can not fully get under though I am somewhere in between lands.  It was 2:30am and I was awake yet again and I opened my meditation app to find a sleepy time track when all of a sudden I get a text from him and more dots that indicate more texts are coming in …

He goes:

Hello beautiful.  I’m sorry to say that my real life is crashing in on this party of ours.

While I enjoyed kissing you, I’m afraid to say that I have some real world things to attend to …

Let’s still plan on me coming to you but I don’t know if I can promise anything long-term.

I promise I will make our time together happy.

I interrupted at this point, “are you drunk?”

He apologized for waking me and said he should probably go to bed.  I agreed that was a good idea.  If only I didn’t lay there until 4am pissed off at him for being a pussy and trying to break up with me in the middle of the night and who said anything about long-term, I was the one who gets to choose, I don’t need a consolation prize, I should just tell him to go fuck himself.

I did none of those things.  I ruminated in the morning and sent a screen shot to one of my Kellys who was the only one who even knew I went on a date.

“I don’t even know what this means,” she said.

“Me neither,” I said.

I finally text him Monday and he said he was up late, he was sorry but he didn’t offer further explanation.  I said he could still come but only if he wanted to, and I promised I would only talk about boring middle aged stuff like soffits and the cost of lumber.  He picked up on the lumber and turned it into a conversation about nothing.

Without an explanation from him, I am turning it into I did something wrong.  I did not pass the “bonus mom” test since he ultimately is looking for a life partner that can help raise his daughter.  A good woman who can help nurture a gifted child.  I might just be a fun time.  Not high brow enough, too bowling alley.  Or he is interested in other people, his green dot is frequently showing in okcupid all the time.  Or whatever other girl he wasn’t cheating on.  Maybe he is not a nice guy nerd.  Maybe he is a fucking narcissist.  I am slowly thinking of red flags.  This is real time ahas right here.  He asked me a question once and he said, “that’s exactly what I would say, you are me in a female body.”  He wants himself.  He wants a mirror.

The last few days have gone back and forth with who texts first.  Yesterday was him, today it was me, though he has the ball.  Plans for this weekend have not been solidified but he has a job interview that I think he is going to say he “needs to study for.” I feel like I got tricked into being the wanter instead of the wantee.  I am the one who is “not sure”.  I wasn’t sure but figured I’d give it a few dates to see if we click.  I don’t want to force anything but I was excited by the idea of someone intelligent with their shit together, possibly an instant family.  Maybe I needed a nice nerdy down to earth guy.

I guess I’ll let it fade out if that’s what it’s meant to do.  Narcissists hate when you stop paying attention to them.  

Lesson 6: Beginnings

 This week's prompt is... beginnings. I am an expert at beginnings.  I love starting new projects, blog posts, falling into internet rabbit holes, starting a binge watching project like re-watching The X-Files.  I am just not so good at follow through and I am terrible at finishing things.

I have been decorating my bathroom for over a month now and the only thing that is holding me back from calling it finished is hanging some shelves which I can't do because the original shelving thing I picked up was defective and I need to return it and I can't make a decision if I should buy different brackets or something else entirely.  I also need to clean the rest of the paint off the floor.

For months I have been contemplating buying a new couch but every time I go shopping for one I come home defeated.  I could spend a mid-size amount ($800) on one from some furniture surplus place but they didn't have the ones I like in stock.  I could spend twice that ($1600) and get a quality one with a ten year warranty, pick out the fabric I want, and have it delivered in 6 months.  But my brain goes, then I have to live with the couch I don't like for six more months, I will change my mind before then, and I don't really LOVE this couch it was just the deepest one they had, and $1600 could pay off two credit cards and I am in debt but I will be in debt for a few more years, does that mean I have to suffer for the next two years? 

What I really want is my old couch back.  My old stinky couch with my old stinky boyfriend in my old stinky apartment with my old stinky neighbors and all my old stinky cats.

I spent the majority of yesterday when it was raining and gloomy trying to sort through some old computer files and spent way too much time looking at old photos from 2018 and it turns out nostalgia is a bitch.  

I don't really want the apartment back.  I just want a time machine so I can have a do-over.  I wouldn't buy this house.  I like this house but I wasn't gaga over it.  It was the nicest one in my budget I had looked at so far.  I was too worried about wasting everyone's time. If I had a do-over, I would hold out for a house that made me swoon.  I settled for this one and I have been doing what I can to make it cozy and mine, but I also feel trapped by financial constraints.  I am doing what I can for now with paint and rugs.  I tell myself five years, five years to get out of debt and save up money to either find a different house or remodel this one.  

There's also asking for help.  What I really need is a boyfriend with a truck who is handy with things around the house.  Can I put that on a dating profile?  "I am just using you has a handyman.  Will give half-hearted blowjobs in return."  I have not been dating, but am half-vaccinated now so it feels like by summer I should start looking.  I don't know if I have the mental energy for dating right now.  I really only have the ability to focus on one major life goal at a time and right now couch drama is soaking all that up.  Progress:  I just texted my dad to ask if I found a used couch online if he would help with picking it up.  That would save me a few hundred dollars because all these people buying new furniture are getting rid of their used stuff and I've seen some decent looking ones on marketplace.

I have been ordering books and workbooks on intuitive eating and that should really be my focus.  Maybe that could be my week day blogs.  I don't want to get into it too much now because it is really a can of worms.  And this has gone on long enough about nothing, just wasting away another weekend day.  

Have I been avoiding the actual subject?  Yes, thank you ADHD.  The prompt is about can you think of a time that a tragedy sparked a beautiful new beginning or reminisce about the beginning of a beautiful relationship.  In my head, the way my brain sorts my life into chapters or volumes of potential memoirs, my twenties and thirties were about trying to find love and messing it all up with drinking and love addiction and finally finding it when I gained a little confidence/self-love which happened when I lost weight.  Happy ending right?  Except then I gained weight back and the relationship didn't actually fulfill me, although it was  nice to have a companion and then I started feeling like maybe it just wasn't the right guy, maybe I do have options, then I became restless and conflicted, drove him away, decided to be independent and stop waiting for a man to take the lead and bought my own damn house.  So we are at the beginning of the second memoir wherein the heroine learns that she needs to make her own happiness and accept herself.  And she tries to get the same guy back but he won't answer her texts or DMs or snail mail and while she has contemplated parking outside his apartment building she realizes that might be considered stalking and remembers how creepy it was when someone she had broken things off with would drive to her house uninvited.  

I mean for crying out loud, we've been broken up almost as long as we were together.  Let's blame the pandemic for freezing time because it feels like 2020 never happened.  I should have spent the last year actually writing that first memoir which I have been thinking about for years but it feels like that era finally just ended so I should be ready now but also not ready to re-live all of that, although the memories have started to fade.  Might be good therapy, not for publication or even consumption by others, but just a record that states I saw, I came, I drank it all.  

Maybe I should finally call the insurance hotline to see about getting that ADHD diagnosis finally so maybe I can get some legitimate medication that will help me focus.  There's a beginning that I've been procrastinating on.  If I procrastinate, it's because I'm afraid of rejection or hearing the word now.  I'm afraid they will say, you don't have it, you're just fat and lazy and a bad person with no self-control, how dare you look for an excuse!  

***

So I have actually proofread this post because I have been making a lot of silly typos lately and sometimes I clean up redundancies.  But I have to say that if I step back and listen to myself as though I am a third party, it seems that one of my major blocks in life is fear of settling and fear of rejection.  Probably related, because I settle for things in order to prevent rejection.  Is it okay to want the best?  To want to be happy with my furniture, my house, my bed companion?  What is settling costing me?  What would rejection cost me?  Can I just be happy and grateful for what I have and what is in this moment or should I strive for improvement of myself and my surroundings?

That'll be $105, please.

Lesson 5: People We've Lost (kinda)... but also current events

This lesson asks us to rehash grief.  I'm going to gloss over this, having not lost anyone close to me in a very long time.  I'm lucky to have all four of my parents around yet, but I have run out of grandparents.  Those losses were not tragic to me per se, but I was more affected on an empathic level.  Being midwestern/Nordic, it seems to be impolite to express feelings.  You certainly don't want to make other people around you feel burdened by your emotions and so grief is a lonely road you walk alone.  Deflect with humor, deflect with alcohol, deflect with food.  Deflect, deflect, deflect.

I have stopped crying when I learn that a person has died.  My ex's mom.  My cousin's son.  My godfather uncle, and I was even in the room for that one.  I have wondered why this is.  If I have become cold and unemotional or if it more has to do with my dabbling in the spiritual realm and psychics.  I can't say that we necessarily go to heaven or hell or that we all become ghosts or only some who haven't crossed, but I have talked to enough mediums that I know my grandmother Louise is attached to me because she always comes through.  I have watched mediums take on her hand motions, fidgeting, lip licking, laugh.  That Wagner laugh.  Because she was bossy, I totally believe that she always pushes her way to the front of the line.  I count her among my ADD ancestors.  

Animals though. I still cry about Phoebe.  I have made enough progress that I finally purchased a memorial box with photo frames from Amazon and it turned out to be bigger than I thought.  "You could put all your cats ashes in it" a friend of mine said, so now I'm paralyzed with pre-grief and think every time I look at it I'll be reminded they too shall pass.  If you think about it in terms of hours spent together, they are the longest relationships of my life thus far.  

Today is cloudy and gloomy and I really don't want to spend the day mired in death thoughts, so I'm going to pivot in to what happened this week, which was physically nothing but mentally maybe a tiny shift? Monday I virtually attended a free motivational seminar on confidence-boosting that went on for ten hours.  There were some big names in the motivational world (Tony Robbins, Jay Shetty, Brendon Burchard) even Chrissy Metz and it was all free because of some billionaire lady founder of a cosmetics company was doing a book launch.  I was working and casting it to a small TV I set up in my office so I could easily mute it when the cheerleader lady came out or my boss called me or some such.  And... it kind of worked, at least as a mood booster.  Was I actually "Becoming Unstoppable"?  Did I buy the book to get more free bonuses?  Yes, but only on kindle so it was cheaper.  

So here I am on my little high when it is time for our Tuesday department meeting and my associate (no employees here, we are all "associates" (oh shit I think I just realized that goes back to when it was a mob company)) uses her time to just point out every tiny mistake I've made in front of the whole department (which is four people total). I have found small mistakes she has made and I just correct them and move on, no big deal.  Usually.  I used this opportunity of feeling attacked to bite back  and pointed out something she did but also added a callous "no big deal, just something to watch for".  She is older and I think it may be a generational thing.  Or an accounting personality type.

Wednesday I had my one-on-one with my boss and thought about bringing it up but didn't want to be petty.  She did mentioned she would like the weekly meetings to become a collaborative ideas space so maybe nitpicking each other is not that.  We did talk about work goals which is something she procrastinated on.  It's a requirement to post in your portal your yearly goals for yourself, the department and your long-term and short-term career goals.  My boss plans to retire in five years, and so does everyone else.  Maybe I want to be the AP manager after she retires?  I need to think about my goals.

Thursday I had my second appointment with my new therapist.  Let's call her Kathy.  Kathy asks me what the best and worst things were to happen since the last time I saw her.  I was not prepared for this, so I use it to segue into what I wanted to talk about anyway -- I call the seminar the best thing just because of its mood boosting and the job goals the worst.  Well, not the worst, but the most anxiety producing.  I'm not dumb, I did notice that everyone was older and wondered if I was hired to be a potential replacement *someday* but I didn't know I'd have to name it right now.  That I had to lay claim to it.  Would I even want it?  It has never seemed like a possibility before.  I am usually the silly one of the department.  Then it dawned on me that nobody really knows me here.  I could be the fucking AP manager someday.  Working from home, we don't interact a ton.  I'm not even working very hard and I don't think anyone knows, my boss is just pleased that everything is caught up.  

Apparently Kathy used to be an accountant and while I was trying to talk about going back to school to finish my English degree, I think she was assuming that I talking about getting a bachelor's in accounting so I could make more money.  I don't even use the stuff I learned getting my associates.  She says it doesn't matter, then you can sit for the CPA.  I do know some ding dongs that are CPAs so how hard can it be?  

It has taken me a long time to come to terms with being an accountant.  I am not passionate about it, I don't find it fun.  Have I always just wanted to be glamorous and artsy?  Not a lot of people get to "do art" for a living.  I spend a lot of time thinking of art ideas but not executing them (another point in the ADD column).  But given how I breezed through most of my accounting classes with easy As, could it turn out that maybe I actually am talented at accounting?  That I am more left-brained than I care to admit it?  Is it possible to be a dyslexic attention deficit disordered talented accountant?  Can I fake it up to middle management where I don't really have to do anything except coach a couple of underlings and come up with goals that are riddled with corporate jargonese?  

Kathy did not encourage me to follow my dreams, she encouraged me to make more money.  I should have asked her what mid-life crisis made her pivot from accounting to counseling, but then she would have to pay me for counseling her.  Kathy said that when we are young, we may also have wanted to be a unicorn farmer but sometimes you have to grow up.  Did she call my writerly dreams immature?  I didn't book another appointment with her because I don't know if its a match and I don't know what to work on with her.  If something comes up, maybe I'll give her a call.  Her schedule seems pretty open.

In the meantime, I put succeeding my boss as AP Manager as my long term goal.  Now that it's in my file, they might begin grooming me, but I think the main purpose is for me to groom myself.  If I start thinking that there is a chance of becoming a manager, maybe that is enough for me to shift my attitude a bit.  One thing is for sure, no getting drunk with these people or telling inappropriate stories about that one time I got drunk or about how I stole my stapler when I got laid off.  

Lesson 4: Contribution

I had my first visit with my new therapist and found it frustrating that she didn't already know my whole backstory because I was trying to tell it to her and going off in tangents and I brought up ADD and she shook her head yes vehemently but she is one of those that says meditation is just as effective as medication and even though she is not a prescriber, I was hoping to get referred to one.  Also, I am using insurance since it is partially covered but I forgot that when you do use insurance you need to have goals/reason/treatment plan for going to therapy because apparently you can't just go hang out with some lady in a tiny white room for 50 minutes just because you want to talk about yourself and be validated without feeling guilty. I have another appointment this week, I figure I will give her a try for a few sessions and keep trying to meditate even though I am mostly bad at it.

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 This lesson asks me to reflect on what I do to make the world a better place or at the very least, contribute.  Having a job contributes to society.  Paying taxes, contributing to the flow of money.  Putting art and thoughts out to the world (which feels more like self-centered expression for me but okay, some find it entertaining).  Taking care of a home.  The cats.  I keep the cats fat and happy with comfortable places to sleep.  Being a mentor to younger generations, which I only do on accident.  In my last job I found myself as the "work mom" to my eighteen year old co-worker.  Wait I thought, when did this happen?  Everyone always wants to mother me... I am the one who has work moms.  And now I am a work mom to a smart and funny orthodox Catholic home-schooled girl who is so stubborn and young that she doesn't even know she is parroting her parent's viewpoints?  I can't wait for her to break free.  I just hope she realizes I gave her a nail file. 

Have you ever posted a positive image or quote on social media?  What made it special to you?

Any meme I have posted, or quote I have used in a caption has been because it meant something to me at the time.  Sometimes they stop meaning something as evidenced by when I see them in my facebook memories (something I've been using to slowly delete the past).  Sometimes they turn out to be problematic examples of toxic positivity.  Gotta hand it to Gen Z, they have really found a way to vilify just about anything.

How do you feel like you contribute to the world through your vocation?

Accounting keeps the money flowing between companies.  My company itself contributes cheese, glorious cheese to the world.  They also have good benefits and wellness programs, personal development courses which I am about to start taking (as required).  I feel better working for them than any other company in my past which either contributed junk to the world and/or treated employees like pawns.

Have you ever donated money or time to a cause?  What feelings prompted you to do so?

Donating money is easier.  A few bucks here and there to March of Dimes, the Humane Society, places where if you donate $10 once they will send you merch for years and then ask you to donate more in order to pay for it.  I had a child sponsor twice, less than a dollar a day to feed a starving child.  I quit on both of them during times when I was trying to wrangle my expenses in.  The second one was a fifteen year old boy with a moustache from the Philippines.  My friends got a good chuckle out of that one.

Guilt is what usually inspires my generosity. In my church days they taught that you should give 10% of your income to the church.  Luckily my parents also thought this to be outrageous... like I should give $200 a month to the church when the pastor is driving around in a minivan with a TV in it and I am living paycheck to paycheck? And even in the post-church days the Woo woo gurus go around espousing that if you give it away it will come back ten-fold (or something).  But the scarcity mindset is ingrained and if I feel guilty for spending $20 on pizza delivery while paying off debt, I am never going to be able to part with 10%.  I am only putting 5% in my 401k and even that seems like a bit much.  

Sometimes out of the goodness of my heart I will give $10 - 20 to someone's fundraiser for an animal if I know them.  But usually only for animals.

When I am rich, I say, I will be a philanthropist.  

Have you ever performed a random act of kindness?

Snowblowing the curmudgeon next door's sidewalk?  Holding a door?  Paying for the car behind me in the drive thru but only if someone in front of me paid for mine and then I end up paying for a three person car behind me instead of my $3 for breakfast burritos?  Sure.  Nothing on a grandiose scheme though.  I think about doing them, but don't actually do them out of fear.  There was a guy sitting outside the grocery store parking lot with a sign indicating he is cold and I have a plethora of blankets at home.  I contemplated going to get him one, but then my brain train took me all the way to doing that, then offering to let him stay at my house for the night, then him murdering me.  Not sure if this is an ADHD thing or just a fear mongered white girl who watches too many murder docs.

How do you contribute to your family or friend group on a regular basis?

I try to send birthday cards if I'm not going to see the person.  It feels like nobody does it anymore.  It also feels likes something I do and hope to maybe get the same in return but I don't and then I say I'm not going to do it anymore but then I go it's not supposed to be about getting the return, it's about doing unto others as you'd have done to you without expecting the done to you part.

How would you like to live your life with the idea that you're setting an example for others as  you do so?  Would you do anything differently?

If I'm modeling anything, it's that you can do it yourself without a man.  I don't know if I'm trying to put on airs about being cool single independent chick and everyone sees right through it and pities me, or if they admire me.  Probably a little bit of both.  I don't know that I would do anything explicitly different in order to be what... an influencer?  

I pay attention to the people that are living the lives that I wish I were and then I look at the gap between their life and mine and I wonder if it is achievable or if I am buying into the lie that you have to be a skinny vegan yoga master with hairy armpits living in a zen garden in Malibu in order to be happy.  Do you need some grand purpose to change the world?  Am I wasting my life?  Comparison is the thief of joy.

Is there a meaningful giving experience you'd like to plan for in the future?

There is definitely something making me feel icky about my contributions not being totally selfless.  Since I have given up most desire/hope to biologically have a child of my own, isn't my lack of contribution to global warming/overpopulation/resource suck, not to mention sparing future generations from my genetics, enough? I figure that if that mothering itch really wants to be scratched, maybe sometime in ten years when I'm 50 or so, I can foster or adopt a kid, one that's around four or five, already potty trained but still cute and precocious.  Or you know, maybe a puppy.  I keep asking the cats if they want a puppy and they say no with their eyes.  

My company does a lot of work with Big Brothers Big Sisters and I have been thinking about volunteering with them, sort of foster-lite, find some kid that you don't have to take home, just basically babysit for a few hours a week.  I also have wondered if they would let me as a single middle aged lady participate and if it would seem creepy if I did.  It's called Big Sisters not "you are the same age as my Grandma because we all had kids at sixteen." (I can say that because I was a teen mom baby.)

Lesson 3B: What is Missing, part 2

 Please note my reluctance to do this lesson.  It's obviously some kind of refusal, delay, procrastination tactic my ego is employing to help me avoid uncomfortable feelings.

1.  Do you feel connected to the world and the people around you?  If not, why do you think that might be? 

NO.  But honestly... never really have.  That was even the crux of my existence going back to childhood. Not popular, but not bullied.  I have always felt invisible to the majority of the world.  A misfit, but embarrassed about it.  I never let my freak flag fly.

2.  Can you think of a time when you felt more connected?  Describe that time.

In the younger days (middle/high school) my friend groups consisted of other misfits.  We were the leftovers.  I think we each thought we were the ring leader, but there wasn't a leader.  Work friends aren't that genuine, especially ones in my early drinking days.  I spent my 20s skimming along the outskirts of other tribes.  Even in the online heydays of 2006 Blogging, I had my regulars that I regularly visited but could not quite get into true bloggy friends circle.  But this isn't about the times you still didn't feel connected.  I get glimpses of it, sometimes with family or friends or even a nice interaction with a stranger out in the wild and I can always tell those little moments because I get a little flutter / heart swell.  And it feels good.

3.  List as many of your values as you can think of.

I always worry about the difference between what I think my values are and what I actually practice/represent.   I think I value beauty (aesthetics, not societal beauty standards as a tool of repression), competence, cleverness, courtesy (can you tell I'm looking through an alphabetical list?), empathy, ethics, focus (I value in others and wish I had it), serenity (wish), security (wish), loyalty (I gots and I wants), intuition and self-improvement.  I also think I value animals over people, is that a value?

4. Do you feel like you're traveling down the right path?  If not, what is your "right" path?

Well.  I think with age comes the acceptance that there isn't a right or wrong path, just the one you're on and it's what you make of it, right?  Sounds trite, but the other two options are offing yourself or quitting your job with the certainty that the universe will provide for you and I haven't reached either of those ends of the spectrum yet.

5. Have you considered that the thing that might be missing is you?  Do spend time exploring inward instead of letting the world pull you outside of yourself?

Sweet jesus, all I do is self-reflection.  To the point that it might be detrimental.  I was once getting reiki'd and the lady balancing my chakras asked me if I was a pilot because I'm not connected to the ground.  I need to be more in my body.  That is a good kick off to other things like intuitive eating and mindfulness.  I am just so in my head yet mindless, I forget that I even have a body until I go and do something like cut off the tip of my finger.

I made one tiny brave step last week and made an appointment to meet with a new therapist in my new town.  She's doing in person or online sessions and I opted to do in person.  Not sure if that was the right call or if she's already had COVID or if she's a denier, I just think I need to get the feel of her in person first.  A mask might negate it.  I'm just sick of having to worry about what I look like on Zoom.  I picked her out of the list of covered shrinks with my new insurance because her website is like art therapy! counseling! pictures of happy people!  But she seemed kind of crabby and must have told me what the cost was about five times and it had to be cash or charge.  I've noticed when talking to other therapists that they can be a bit brisk when you first meet them, before you are patients.  I suppose they are doing something like *setting boundaries* or whatever.  I'll ask her about ADD, see what she thinks, I don't think she has prescriber capability but can refer me and work with me on the associated behavioral things, get into eating issues in a non-judgemental way, my current love avoidance, I can just be like, here take all my monies.  Or maybe I won't like her and I'll find somebody else.  That's okay too.