9:57 a.m. - 2006-10-20
I've kinda settle down and done the same thing. I've come to view the past 10 years as some sort of manic effort to stay busy and unfocused and stimulated. But after a while, the chronic stimulation becomes rote and boring, thus aggrevating the mania and frustrating the hell out of me.
I used to look forward to the weekends as some sort of escape. An escape from my life, and escape certainly from my mom's house. But, as I grew, and moved into a place I loved, I began to resent the constant migration to The City, because it took me away from a place I truely enjoyed. And with the group breaking up, little by little, and H being a dickhead, then Six hybernating with L, and Sully spending more time with his sister, and all the others bailing over and over because we really didn't have anything in common anymore, I wanted very badly to be in a place that felt like home.
It took a few weeks to truely break out of the manic weekend mode. The panicky realization of nothing to do. But I have found things to do that make me happy. Fall festivals, bonding with the nephew, taking care of my pooch, taking better care of my apartment because I'm there for a change, and deepening my yoga practice which brings me such joy.
I suppose its a form of nesting. But, I worry a little. Like I wonder whether all work and less peer interaction will committ me to a life of solitude.
Unfortunately, my only dating options of late are very young men, or a 42 year old arrogant ass of a mental case who lives around the corner who seems to think that I would lower myself to date him. He has no job, no smarts, no finesse, no creativity, and no attractive qualities at all. I found out through the grapevine that he's in love with me and intends to ask me out.
Why me? He's gonna be trouble. I can feel it. He's one of those guys who has nothing to recommend him who thinks he's God's gift. He lost his job where I work (fired for good reason), and hasn't taken another because the hours aren't quite right, or the benefits aren't up to par, or the money isn't more than he was making before. You know the type. Feels entitled.
I can see in his face that he's living in some sort of cracked up reality about who he thinks he is and who he thinks I am, and probably has some fantasy about how I'm just waiting for him to ask me out to fulfill my own fantasies.
Men like this are dangerous. I've dealt with it before, though I am much more skilled and worldly now. Wish me luck.
I can't even feel flattered by the attention because I know its all about control, not attraction.
I'm gonna squash him like a nasty infestation.
Anyway, where was I?
I am very much looking forward to a week off next week. I'm just wading through the day to get to the end so I can roll around in the blissful sensation of 9 full days without work like a pig rolls around in mud.
I'm gonna marinate in the freedom. Stew in it. Soak it in.