Saturday, August 27, 2016

OKAY, I didn't really intend for this to turn into a rant, but there you go.  Read further at your own risk.

Days 7 and 8.

Okay, I'm a week into this and already I'm finding myself having sporadic results.  Life gets busy.  I get tired.  Whatever.  It is, however, Saturday again, and hopefully I can accomplish some of the stuff that I didn't get done during the week.  Of course this means that the weekend is hectic and I'm still tired when Monday rolls around.  But stuff doesn't do itself.  None of it. 

I enjoy being single.  I like not having people second-guess what I plan to do and when I want to do it.  I like making my own decisions.  I LOVE not having somebody say (as every guy I dated did) about the writing "You can do that any time.  You don't need to do it now.  Sit down, relax, spend a little time with me." 

Now, don't get me wrong, I liked, even loved the guys.  But you CAN'T do it any time.  There are deadlines, and energy issues and they said it EVERY SINGLE TIME I'd try to write.  They'd come to the house when I said "please don't.  I'm hitting up against a deadline and really have to work on this all weekend," to check on me, "see how it's going" "how you're doing."  Some of them made it clear they thought I wasn't writing at all, I was sneaking off to be with some other guy.

[For the record.  I don't cheat.  If we're in a monogamous relationship and I'm not happy with you, I'll either work on it with you or dump your sorry ass.  I     DON'T     CHEAT.  I don't like being cheated on--so I figure the guy I'm with wouldn't either.] 

I don't like not being taken seriously.  I don't like having people not LISTEN or believe me.  I TRULY don't like having a guy be jealous of my career.  And make no mistake folks, the writing is the career.  The day job is just a paycheck.  I'm good at it.  I work hard at it.  But it is NOT my career.

SO, since I repeatedly had so much trouble with the men I dated not getting it--and me--I felt I had to make a choice.  And I chose me.  And while I would love to have somebody in my life who got it, and me, and who thinks I'm just plain wonderful and don't need to change -- I'd really, really, rather be alone than have someone who doesn't.

So I'm alone.  And I'm okay with it 99.8% of the time.  When the .2% hits I treat it like a migraine, take something for the pain and sleep it off. 

BUT (You just knew there was a but, didn't you,) when you are alone, you are ALONE.  There is no back up.  If you fall and dislocate both hips, you're going to be dragging your injured body across the floor to let the EMT's in so that they don't have to break something that you'll have to try to fix later, while injured. 

If things need to be done, you either do it yourself, or you have to pay somebody (or if you're really lucky your friends will look at it and say.  "Oh for the love of . . . here, let me help.")

I'm strong.  I'm capable.  But I get freaking TIRED people.  REALLY REALLY TIRED.  And when I get tired I get cranky. 

But shit still doesn't do itself.  I've tried to teach Lucky the Wonder Dog to scrub the floors.  She isn't interested.

Which reminds me.  She rolled in the dust again, so I need to give her a bath.  Add that onto the list for today.

So, what have I done the past few days.  Stuff. 

I've been trying to get exercise (probably managed it 3 or 4 days out of 7). 

I've been cooking and cleaning and doing laundry (which doesn't sound like much, but takes time). 

I HAVE WRITTEN EVERY SINGLE DAY!! (Granted, some of it was crap.  But I did it.  And that's a big deal). 

I've been saying my prayers and taking care of my spiritual life.

I got the LLC back in good standing with the Secretary of State. 

I did some educational videos.

I paid bills.

Sometime this weekend I need to go through the backlog of paperwork and start on some home repairs.  I've got research to do for the writing.  I've got WRITING to do for the writing.  I also need to back up my computers because they're starting to act out.

NOTE TO THE WORLD--I have been hit by lightning.  When I get stressed out I fry clocks.  I can't wear a watch.  And my electronics go weird.  I have been stressed.  Weirdness has ensued.

I realize most people don't believe this.  They don't have to.  Or they can educate themselves by looking up the afteraffects of being hit by lightning.  Apparently the crap I experience isn't uncommon for lightning strike survivors.  Whatever. 

My personal all time record is going through 11 clocks in 3 months. That's wall clocks, table clocks, the whole schlmiel.  It gets pretty expensive.  It is also why I carry a cheap "dumb phone" rather than a smartphone.  There is no point getting something expensive, programming it, and having it die within a couple of months so that I have to do the whole thing over again.  Besides, I am a Luddite.  I use my phone as a PHONE.

Now, I don't know if anybody is going to read this.  In fact, I might be happier if they didn't.  But I have decided to be honest, and this is about as honest as it gets for today.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Yes, you are being read!