Look, Ma — NO HANDS!

“He who fights with monsters should be careful lest he thereby become a monster.”
~ Friedrich Nietzsche

Let me see if I remember how to do this.

*pause*

Not so much. They say that writing is like riding a bike, but I don’t remember the last time I fell off my desk chair and skinned a knee. Curious.

The more I date, the happier I am that it’s looking more and more likely that it might just be me and Gracie for a long, long time.

I’m not saying that I like my dog more than I like all men … just the men I’ve dated.

Story:

Met this guy through an online dating site and started out the usual way – emailing, which led to texting, which led to phone calls, which eventually led to meeting in person. I have to admit that while there were no sparks, I liked the guy enough to want to get to know him as a friend; when I told him as much he admitted to feeling the same way. So – no love connection but can’t hurt to have another friend, you know?

We talked fairly often, hung out once in a while, laughed a lot, talked a lot. Friends, you know? Not friends with benefits, just honest-to-goodness plain old friends. It was nice.

Until I got a text message from his phone one morning … “Who is this?”

Weird.

I replied “It’s your mother, now come to breakfast, your oatmeal is getting cold.”

“Seriously. Who are you and where are you from?”

At this point, I was pretty sure that someone else had their hands on Angelo’s phone. I had no idea who it would be, but that sinking feeling in my gut told me that it wasn’t pretty.

I didn’t give the person an answer, just replied “wow, now I’m really glad I didn’t sleep with you.”

To which they came back with “STAY AWAY FROM MY BOYFRIEND.”

Yeah, consider that one done. I consider it a bullet done dodged.

Skipping ahead a couple days in which there was no contact whatsoever, I texted that I was curious as to what was happening, and got this reply a couple hours later.

“Was not completely honest with you. She and I have obviously had relationship problems. We are trying to work through them. She got into my phone the other night and she was furious. Even though you and I did nothing wrong there were some very naughty messages on this phone. I apologize for the lie and I am sorry to involve you in this. It’s probably best if I don’t message you again.”

So I deleted his number after I blocked it, deleted all of his texts and took down my profile from that particular dating site.

I’m not pissed at him specifically (ok, maybe a little, or a lot, whatever), but I am thoroughly disgusted that people do this to each other. Relationships, whether it’s a simple friendship or something more, involve vulnerabilities and trusting the other person with those vulnerabilities; when that trust is compromised, that relationship is in jeopardy if not totally on its way out the door. And in this particular situation, a friendship that could have been really good is just shot (which is totally minor compared to what he did to his home life).

So there’s that.

Work sucks ass. I don’t have the vocabulary or hipness to describe what kind of ass it sucks, but know this: it leaves one bitter aftertaste, reminiscent of the last time I threw up after drinking too much Southern Comfort and attempting a blowjob in the backseat of his parents’ car.

So yeah, that’s work.

So back in May I started taking an antidepressant. Initially things were going well, I seemed to be tolerating the drug itself alright and I noticed that I felt much less tense and just overall had a better attitude. I didn’t flip out about minor (or even major) things, no urge to overeat – and in fact had to remind myself to eat … at first.

This weekend was bad, though. I hung out at my mom’s house for the first time in ages, and I was just such a dud. Went to bed early Friday night, which was expected since I’d been up since 5:00 AM. But I slept from 10:00 PM until almost 11:00 the next morning. I NEVER sleep that late, even if I don’t get to bed until the ass crack of dawn. And then I slept AGAIN from 1:30 until almost 3:00, and then yet again from 4:00 or so until almost 6:00. Red flag, much?

And not only did I sleep sleep sleep … when I was awake my face was in the fridge eating whatever I could get my hands on. And I didn’t think twice about it, either. Big-assed red flag there.

So my goal for Monday morning (after I eat a healthy, balanced breakfast and pack my gym clothes in a bag so I can go to the gym immediately after work), is to get a call into the doctor to 1) talk about whether or not this Celexa is still working for me and 2) ask for a referral to a therapist.

It’s just time, that’s all.

And that’s that.

OK, that’s about all I have for now.

And look here, I didn’t even wipe out or get my pants stuck in the chain.