I am talking to this girl. We’ve been talking since the end of September—so… two months now? Since the aftermath…

Yet, there are so many red flags. She is clearly not my girl.

Her life is mediocre, filled with obligations and responsibilities. There seems to be a desire to meet up, yet no real evidence we’ll ever be more than just pen-pals.

She is beautiful. And tall. And funny. And tall. And smart. And tall. And I can get lost in her eyes.

Unlike so many who came before… she’s close to my age. According to my best friend, that’s supposed to be an advantage.

At least she doesn’t have pets.

Yet, I still prefer the twenty-somethings.

Yes. They can be flaky. Often for no reason at all. But they’re also free. Free from responsibilities. Free from obligations.

Most don’t have children. Most don’t have “real” jobs. Most don’t have crushing debt.

Unless they’re students. It’s been a while since I’ve been really into a student.

Yet, these late thirty-somethings can also be flaky. Occasionally, with genuine reasons, yet they flake in the same way.

In this case, she agreed to meet up late Saturday night. Of course, she was obliged to take food to her kids immediately after work, but then she was mine.

Later, she mentions her mom USUALLY has the kids in bed before nine, which is why she made plans. Yet, on this night, her mom let the kids start a movie—late—and they’re 100% awake when she shows up… with the food.

Wait. If the kids are usually in bed, why are you taking them food?

Anyway, she stops looking at her messages, and apologizes the next day—around 11—for her kids deciding to stay up all night.

Okay, red flags:

• Her kids are running her life, of which she seems to have no control. Seems a lot of mothers are like that today (one reason I prefer ladies with no children).
• No courtesy message when it became apparent she wasn’t going to be able to leave her kids for a night out. That’s just rude. At least let someone who’s waiting for you know you’re bailing.
• She can’t leave her kids alone in this scary scary world for an evening. With her mom and grandparents in the house.
• And she makes you feel like a chump for simply liking her.

Has the aftermath of September pulled the rug out from under my standards? Not exactly. Because I enjoy talking to her, and because I have so few friends, I had relegated to friend-zoning her almost instantly.

Yet, she’s not even a good friend. Good friends are reliable.

In today’s panicked world, it’s difficult to stay true. It keeps getting harder to meet new people. Ejecting from life has taken so long it feels like fantasy now, and throwing everything out would make the most sense… if I didn’t need (at least some) cash.

2020 was the best year of my life. And sometime in August, I squandered everything. And in September, I fell in love, which ruined the remains.

Back to that familiar place. Stuck. In a muddy field filled with red flags. The ship is heading in the wrong direction, and I need to correct it. NOW.

If you see my favorite birthday girl today, please give her my best…

Happy 23rd birthday, you crazy, beautiful, tasty snack.

¿Cuantos tacos quieres?

When I started on this weight loss journey/lifestyle change, my coach told me that eventually the cycle of addiction would be broken... and the cravings will subside.

Yet, after four rounds of eliminating free radicals and detoxifying myself, that was not true. Not even a little bit.

Someone opens a drawer with cheesecake in it? I can smell that instant from across the building.

Pizza ad on the television? I can smell the pizza.

Oh, and those fucking french fries. Need I say more?

Until this time.

This round is different.

For starters, I am close to the end of my weight loss journey. My fat percentage is the lowest it has ever been, and I only have stubborn belly/back fat remaining—at least that’s important... because it jiggles. And looks terrible when I’m sitting.

As such, this round I didn’t see the usual significant losses on the scale. So, I pushed. I stuck to the food list for four weeks. Then five.

Many of my peers on this journey stick with it for six per round. A few never stray.

And here I am, at the end of the eighth week, hoping to lock in a weight under 150 before the holidays, and I’m not craving that burger. That cheesecake. Those cinnamon rolls.

I wonder... when did that happen?

Tomorrow is the day I can eat again. I had planned on a taco. And a cupcake. And cheesecake. And a burger. And fries. And macaroni & cheese.

Do I dare?

I’ve been looking forward to Thanksgiving. The sweet potatoes (without marshmallows, you savage). The Grape-Nut pie. The cornbread stuffing. The cranberry jalapeño sauce.

And Christmas. Date pinwheel cookies. Pecan candy.

And New Years. Those fritters.

Do I dare?

Can I really do it again after the start of the year? Break that addiction cycle and finally get to my goal physically?

I’m sure you can see my dilemma... maybe I should just keep doing my food list. Although a respite may be welcome. And effective.

Like when I stopped doing push-ups daily. Now the burn feels good again. And I’m seeing results again.

Perhaps a break is best.

Stay tuned. We’ll see what happens.

Why?

Most mornings, I have this sneezing fit.

My sinuses close up. I can’t breathe. I can feel the sensation build.

Then... pow! Pow! Pow! So. Many. Sneezes. Several minutes of this hell.

Nose completely closes. Sometime eyes water and close too.

And... pow! Pow! Pow! Still. Sneezing.

Seriously, why can’t we just build up one. Single. Sneeze. And get it over with.

Finally, it passes. Mouth breather. I can’t breathe. Wait patiently for the nose to open back up.

Then life resumes.

What an annoying daily disruption.

Awww thanks

I stumbled upon a meme the other day. It might have been funny if it didn’t have a stinging ring of truth to it…

When a girl replies, “Awww thanks,” it means she’s politely asking you to return to the friend zone that you just tried to escape from.

Another red flag? Perhaps. Lord knows I’ve seen enough “Awww thanks” comments/replies in my life. Most, if not all, of these girls are on waiver.

Guess she’s not my girl…