I’m watching a show called The Village tonight and everyone is professing their love for each other.
Earlier I was forcing myself to finally vacuum the house after a far-too-long hiatus, and I was thinking how nice it would be to have a partner ask “What can I do to help?” so I could answer, “Oh bless you! Please take the dog outside and hose her down!” Because she is desperately overdo for a bath.
For the most part though, I don’t mind being alone. Not anymore. It’s a bit sad actually. I never thought I would lose hope that I would find someone right for me. It’s not that I’ve lost hope, I just don’t seem to care anymore. Or maybe not caring isn’t it, exactly. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to being alone, plus I have grown so incredibly weary of the same repetitive questions and answers on the dating sites. All so that I can have a mediocre date that isn’t followed-up with a second one, or for the guy I’m chatting with to disappear from the site completely, before even meet.
Quite a few weeks ago I hit it off with a guy and we exchanged numbers after our very nice coffee date. A week later I hadn’t heard from him, so I texted saying something about misreading the cues and that I wished him good luck. He sent a very long text back saying that the day after our date, he had sent me a text saying he’d had a great time and he looked forward to seeing me again. He went on to say that he spent the week a bit bummed that I didn’t respond, until I texted him that moment and he realized the text never sent.
We had a funny back and forth, starting with me saying “well, now what?”
“I think I should ask you out again”
“I think you should too!” But encouraged him to do so when he wasn’t in the middle of watching a movie, which he’d told me was the case early in this text exchange.
I never heard from him again.
When the nice ones can’t follow through, well, I don’t know what to think then. So I don’t anymore. I just shrug and move on.
If I didn’t have one nice relationship under my belt, I would assume I am incapable. There once was a guy who was the type who, when I broke a lightbulb sprang into action grabbing the broom and dust pan and guiding the dog out of the way so she woulnd’t step on the glass (I do know that relationships are more than chores, it’s just the memory that comes to me quickly now).
It all seems pretty moot to me, even when I think of the possibility of having good company around. They’ll leave eventually anyway. I won’t like them enough or they won’t like me.
I am feeling off tonight (obviously). On a broader scale, the abortion law changes happening right now are so scary that I don’t know how to react aside from emotionally shut down about it. S I’ll just talk about dumb stuff like my lack of love life and shoes.
On a smaller scale, and far less important to the rest of the country, I have been on an annoying search for new shoes. The last time I saw my doctor my circulation was fine, but after a day of wearing new loose fitting shoes, I still have a tingling sensation in the toes on my right foot. I noticed this while wearing the new sneakers and suspected they were cutting off circulation a bit. I loosened them, I cut hidden parts of them to get more room, I shifted the elastic holding the shoes together. But as I sit here in my slippers, I can feel the coolness in my toes and the top of my feet. Like I somehow damaged my feet with he super soft, lots-of-room-in-the-toes Sketchers sneakers.
So I don’t know what the deal is but it’s pretty distracting to go into a big work weekend with my feet feeling so weird.
Tomorrow is a long day in a long weekend. I have two family portrait sessions – one before a bar mitzvah and the other after a graduation. In the evening I shoot the honorary degree recipient dinner at BU. Sunday is a day of commencement shooting and at least it will end with a visit to the house of some friends to watch the final episode of Game of Thrones.
I have been stressed leading up to it all. I’ve woken a few times this week with an upset stomach. It goes away but that’s very unusual for me. It’s not that I do not feel capable to my responsibilities, I guess maybe it’s that they carry weight. And to be honest, I feel like I carry much of the load at work. Whether or not that’s true, it’s how I feel. Like I am always putting out fires that no ones else notices I am extinguishing.
I guess I do care, cause it would be nice to have someone sitting next to me say “well, that sucks!”
Instead I have a silly dog (who I am grateful for) rubbing her dirty fur all over me and staring at me to let her outside yet again so she can go smell a patch of grass and stare at some boulders. Again.