I’m working on it

I know, it’s been a while. It’s not because I’m not trying.

I’ve been researching and putting together what is turning out to be more of a Psychology paper than a blog, and these things take time. If only I had put this much time and effort into an actual Psychology homework assignment 20-some-odd years ago!

Meanwhile, I’m tired and I feel a bit like I’ve been run over by a bus. You see, I’ve cut carbs and sugar from my life, entirely. Call it Atkins. Call it Keto. Call it Paleo. Call it feeling like complete shit for at least a week. That’s where I’m at.

Why? Well, I’ve hit a bit of a plateau with weight loss and I’m just ready for a big change in my day-to-day. There’s no one to hold me back anymore! And hell, pork rinds are actually ON the menu! I plopped a glop of butter (the really nice, yellow, european high-quality kind) in my coffee this morning, along with a slurp of unsweetened almond milk. It was tolerable. (#buttermakeseverythingbetter) I made a riced cauliflower dish for lunch and I’ll be having bacon and eggs for dinner. Tomorrow is Day 3 and from what I hear, the “Keto-flu” may get worse before it gets better. That’ll be fun for my co-workers, who’s names I couldn’t remember today (I’ve only known some of them for 20 years!) – hellllooooooo brain fog – a withdrawal symptom along with headache, some nausea, fatigue and dizziness. These things, I’m told, will pass.

Despite the fact that I don’t feel good, I do, actually, feel good about myself. I like making positive changes. I like making my life better. I like healthy routines and self-care. I am finally becoming the sort of person I always wanted to be. The kind of person who exercises regularly, eats with conscience and purpose, maintains quality friendships by nurturing them, like, all the time, and who takes pride in her CUTEAF condo brimming with light and flowers I buy on the weekly for no one but myself.

That’s not to say I’m not lonely. I am very lonely. No doubt about it. Nor shame.

I still have a bit more “research” to do before I compile my Psychology paper-blog, and so, I’m off … tune in tomorrow or maybe the next day, or the day after that. One of these days, if I manage to get out of this keto-fog… I’m working on it!


I had planned to be on a date tonight, but apparently, I musta offended the other half of the arrangement because I’ve texted a few times … <chirp> <chirp>.

I don’t like to be on anyone’s shit-list, but honestly, the girl was already clingy and we hadn’t even met in person, yet. When I wouldn’t respond to her texts, like, immediately, she’d get sensitive – “Are you ok”? Uh, I am at work, it’s a Friday afternoon, calm down. She sent texts and photos of the event she was attending all weekend. When we discussed her return to the area, she suggested we have dinner together on both Sunday and Monday nights. I brushed that off and leaned in to Monday. Random texts kept coming in, topics ranging from “do you like leather?”, to “is it snowing where you are?”, and finally, last night: “May I call you?”, to which I didn’t reply. I texted this morning, apologized, and explained that I hadn’t been feeling well last night, followed by another text about where we should meet for dinner. It’s 6pm now, and nada.

In that case, I’ll go ahead and pop open a beer now.

If you’re going to be that weird about an un-replied-to text on a Sunday night, well, I don’t need that sort of drama in my life.

Perhaps she already rented the U-Haul. Fucking lesbians.

So, now, here I sit, conflicted and sad. Maybe this whole dating thing, even this being partnered thing isn’t my deal, at least, not anymore. There’s no doubt that I’m lonely, but I’ll admit that the thought of sharing time and space with anyone isn’t terribly appealing these days either

It’s a conflict, for sure. I sit here alone so often I’ve actually worn a solitary indent into the couch.

It’s hard all the time, but tonight feels worse than most. I sit in my crevice and wonder if I simply deserve this pain, and why … because I wanted a baby? Was that not painful enough? Can we call it a fucking draw, now?

I wish I could vaporize, I’d turn myself into a pink haze and disappear. No more pain. No more hate. No more jealousy. No more sadness. No more. Going. Going.