whythewords

[whythewords]

Well that last post was depressing, huh? What would the next move even be? Apparently a date today and tomorrow with two different girls from a dating app, after a week at work that has left me incredibly mentally drained. This is probably really ill-advised on my part...but fuck, here we are. Let's see what happens I guess.

[whythewords]

Square One

When it feels so plainly like "one step forward, two steps back" it gets much harder to cope. And maybe the reality is that it's actually the reverse of that: "two steps forward, ONE step back." "It's still a step forward, man!" "Progress is still progress, man!"

And it is. Indeed. Progress is still progress. But spending the last several months convincing myself I was finally going to move out only to come to the realization that it would cripple me financially in the long run...oof, that one fucking stung.

The budget made sense up to a "it'll be a a little dicey but still doable" degree. Hell, it still does. But then came the fact that my pension is kicking in soon, about a month's time. That's a good thing, don't get me wrong, but it also means another 9% off the top of my paycheque that I didn't account for. But the more glaring omission from what I thought was a meticulous plan was the overlooking of just how much money I've been putting away while living here. A good chunk of change, every single month. And again, this should be good news, great news in fact...but if I move out, those transactions are all but halted. If I want any hope or semblance of owning a place on my own at some point, I need to keep making those big saves, and I can not do that while renting, even a shitty place.

So there's the story: stick around now and be miserable but be better set-up for the long run...or cut and run now and be happy but fuck myself over in the long term...and lord help me, I'm a planner, so option one it is.

I can't help but feel like I'm back at square one...and it definitely doesn't help that the capitalist nightmare of a mall that has a chokehold on the current neighbourhood I'm living in is fucking called "Square One." But I dunno man. When my bank, a real estate agent and a close friend who is trying to sell his place to buy a new one are all telling me to wait it out...the fuck am I supposed to do? But I think I knew it was happening. Hell, I started to see the shift in rental properties as I looked week after week. Things are coming down but it's just taking so...fucking....long. But I knew. Before even talking to anyone about it I considered pulling the plug on this whole thing, and ended up getting confirmation that it was indeed a good idea to hold off for now.

It could still happen this year. Four to six months from now. Maybe a newer townhouse without the exorbitant condo fees. Maybe I lose my fucking shit and decide I've built up a secure enough little nest egg to just rent anyway, perhaps a nicer place than is available to me now. I don't know. What stings is that I've spent at least the last couple of months in this mode where every single time something happens that irks me about living here (and it happens several times per day) I've just been stealing myself and saying "Joe...soon this won't be a problem." That's not the case anymore. Now it's gonna be "deal with it for at least another half a year, fucker."

There's this other thing that crosses my mind, and it's the shittiest thing possible to think about, but fuck if I can help it: my plan was to jump back into the dating thing once I was moved out. "This'll help!" I exclaimed to myself. And now, truly, I have no fucking idea what to do with myself. I am sad, I am lonely, but I am so fucking sick and tired of having to explain the entire situation that lead to me living with my folks to a potential romantic partner, and then waiting with bated breath to see whether or not they're cool with it.

And I'm just so god damn desperate and stupid that I might try to take another swing at that shit anyway. I mean after all, I ain't going anywhere am I?

Nope. I'm right here....square one.

[whythewords]

A Haunting Denouement

Yeah, really...that title. If I'm being honest, I don't where the fuck it came from. First thing that popped into my head. How the fuck can that be possible? I had to look up what it actually means. I must have heard it somewhere.

Anyway, what? Where was I? I don't know because to be honest this is sort of one of those weird semi-streams of consciousness. Like, it's been a minute since the last post, and a lot has happened, and as always when I sit down to type I can barely parse it all. At most, I usually start blathering with some Coles Notes of the events of the last week or two and eventually try to pinpoint some moral that was meant to be discovered by me in the simple act of journaling and recounting my feelings on what has transpired. Okay so why don't I take a stab at doing just that? That last entry was about me making it another year coupled with a sad but maybe hopeful summation of the last three years. I'm still on that train. In the intervening weeks, I wrestled with anxiety that I had made the wrong decision yet again with regards to a job. I was scared like hell that there is indeed nothing out there for me that is a remotely fulfilling means of employment. That settled, thank the universe. It was new job jitters mostly, self-consciousness at being the guy who doesn't know what the fuck he's doing, and an acute worry that I would be that guy for a lot longer than anyone cared to put up with. But I made it over the hump, I think. It's a comfortable, well-worn shoe.

And it's a good thing too, because worry and panic about the new job initially begot worry and panic about my plans to leave the nest (again). If I'm not steadfast in this thing, if I'm not locked in, the panic is going to bleed over and I'm going to worry constantly about being on my own, waiting for the other shoe to drop where I leave this job too and then I'm stuck in limbo (and financial turmoil). Luckily, as I said, I moved past that. I'm in a good groove now, and I'm actually looking forward more and more to moving out...despite dealing with some panic on that front too. The affordability of even renting seemed monumental, even with the little pay bump of the new gig. But some creative budgeting and me starting to find things in my price range that are not impossibly small (like a lot of what I was seeing at first) did put me somewhat at ease. Besides, this is what I've wanted for years now, this has been the end goal (or at least the mid-game boss) for about four years now. No matter the risks, I have to try. And each day it seems less risky and more doable.

I had another therapy session. Those are getting fewer and farther between, and by my own doing because I've been feeling more stable. Of course, it seems inevitable that just when I think things are peachy keen, something grabs me by the ankles and yanks me to the ground. There have been these little back and forths with my former partner (also getting fewer and farther between which I think is definitely healthy). Last time it was to pick up some of her grandma's cookies which she remembered that I liked so she set aside some for me. An admittedly sweet sentiment (even though she was originally going to drop them off with my mom when she was in my neck of the woods and completely forgot). But it was fine. I went by there, hung out for a few minutes, even had some pleasant chit chat and then I took the cookies and went on my merry way. Not but a month or so later and I get a text saying she found a shot glass of mine (which coincidentally I was looking for the week prior...don't know how I didn't notice it was missing until just then almost four years later).

So I make plans to head up there the next time I have a massage appointment, as the clinic is not too far from the old place. That was supposed to be this coming weekend but had to be rescheduled in favour of Palestinian mother's day brunch with my folks. Well, I was kinda hoping to get that thing back soon and try to move on with my life yet again, but no matter, I guess I can wait a couple of weeks. Then I had to push the appointment forward yet again because it turned out being the only day everyone could get together to work on the short film I've been doing. Sidebar: yes, that's a thing. I finished the acting classes I was doing with my cousin and then he asked me to be in a short film he was making with an old buddy of his. It's been fun! Kinda the results I was hoping for when I took the classes in the first place. Returning to an old hobby, another distraction, another creative outlet to keep me occupied. All this to say, now it's going to be a long while before I go back to the old house and and get my shot glass back. At this point I'm ready to just get it and move on and let it be the last piece of this endless puzzle before I make one final vault over the stupidly high bar I've set for myself to finally get to "the right place," wherever and what the fuck ever that is.

But that pleasant, carefree aura I was holding onto is kinda gone. I heard some things through some mutuals that made me more than ever just wanna get what I need and get the fuck out. Maybe for good. I've often thought about having just such a conversation with her, a sort of "maybe this ought to be bye for good" sort of thing. We've sometimes gone months without talking over the last few years but we always inevitably do, even if it's just inane small talk. And my mind tells me "don't be here Joe. Don't fucking be in this place man it's been FOUR god damn years." And it has. And I've been doing well man, like REALLY fucking well, if I actually turn off the sad boy energy and take a step back and look at my progress...it's incredible.

And maybe it's just that need for intimate and romantic companionship rearing its ugly head, but we're not on that step yet, man. I told myself to nix the dating apps, focus on me, and move forward with purpose, and literally everything else in my life has improved as a result of that. Got a newer, better paying job. I'm exploring my hobbies more, getting outta my comfort zone a bit more. I am SLOWLY...very slowly, but still surely putting more time into my music and making it more of a priority. I'm going to therapy...I mean fuck I'm doing everything right....right??

Okay Joe...deep breaths. Once I've saved up a bit more money as a cushion in the next month or two, it'll be time. I'm already knee deep in looking at places online. Mostly basement apartments but hey, there's some nice ones, and ones that'll certainly get the job done. My brother's girlfriend the real estate agent has given me access to the full MLS listings and I've been finding stuff that looks good and spacious and livable and is kinda within my budget. Once things warm up next month and I have a bit more money banked, we'll actually go out and start seeing some of these places for real and then I can finally move in to my own space. I'll get it set up the way I want it, I'll get settled in, and then I'll regroup. Hell, I may even realize I like having my own place to myself so god damn much that I'll put off dating for another 6 months, I don't fucking know man. All I know is that I gotta take it one step at a time.

My sour mood with regards to this stuff and the whole back and forth situation with my old partner and house lit a fire under my ass to finish a new song for this month and for the song-a-month challenge that I am now back to in full force. The song has this smug, angry energy to it that I don't normally tap into, and I kinda love how it turned out. It takes this whole situation and gives it a sort triumphant but aggressive conclusion. A haunting denouement if you will...

Look at that, I brought it full circle.

I'll make it folks. I swear I will. I am officially closer than I've ever been to everything I want. And that's something to be grateful for.

[whythewords]

Twenty Twenty-Five, Somehow Alive

A lot can happen in a couple of months. I'm beginning to type this into my phone during my lunch break at my new job. I spent these last three and a half years becoming less and less enthused about this city where I live. Congestion and concrete and hustle and bustle. At the highest peak of my distaste for living in this city, I was offered a job...working for the city. It's what I thought I would always go back to. Initially I was dead set on it. Eight months of co-op, and an "I hope we see you soon" only for me to fuck off to some job for a marketing company. But it was the right choice at the right time. I learned a lot. I worked my ass off. I got a good sense for what I want, and an even better sense for what I don't want. Thew new gig is definitely a net positive, but there's still a hell of a lot of stuff left to figure out.

A lot can happen half a year. Dad's idea was for us all to move out together. Apparently he only liked that idea when it was his idea. When I added the stipulations of moving a little outta the way so that we could afford something that could, at the very least, eventually be a place with two living spaces, all of a sudden he wasn't so keen. First he didn't wanna leave Mississauga. Now with the recent development of me getting a new job and making a bit more money, I posed the question again: "We could probably afford something in Brampton or even Malton, which is just east Mississauga." "No that's too far." "So what do you propose we do?" "Well I saw some townhouses..." "I'm not moving into a fucking townhouse with you."

Dad, like me, doesn't care for the apartment anymore. But when he thinks about pooling our resources, he thinks about moving from our small space to a slightly bigger space...but with my name on the deed, the property taxes coming out of pocket, the home maintenance falling solely on me, all while I continue living like I'm 12 years old, dependent on mommy and daddy. His expectation being that I'll simply meet someone while living with them, combine incomes, get married and buy a place together. And all within the next few years by the way because he must have grandchildren. The conversation didn't go well. I "crashed out" as the kids are saying these days. Mom, intelligently removed herself from the situation and was reading in her room. I went in and sat on her bed. "I'm gonna take about 6 months at the new job, put down some roots, make sure I like it, save a little extra money...and then I'm leaving. I can't do this anymore."

I had started budgeting for the prospect of affording a home for all of us as a family and what that might look like. Naturally, I consulted that sheet again when I got the new gig and the slight bump in pay. But in another tab of that Google Sheet was a fail-safe, an "in case of emergency, break glass" type of plan: renting, which we were taught to avoid at all costs. "It's throwing your money away!" But it was there because I probably knew deep down this whole "pool resources with the folks, move out together and everyone's happy" plan was never going to work. There was push back from day one. I was told to just accept that we wouldn't be in the locale I wanted, and would need to spend a couple of years working on the home until there were separate living spaces, and little by little the plan that was mutually beneficial became the plan to make everyone else comfortable and change absolutely nothing for me, except put me in more debt. I was hoping to avoid renting, I always looked at it as a last resort just to reclaim some independence, get my mental health back, a temporary solution. But earlier this year I had a conversation with a very good friend who agonized to purchase, gut and essentially rebuild a place where he and his wife now live and are expecting their first child in. Of all people, he's the one who talked up the benefits of renting. I wouldn't have given it a second thought even a year ago, but things change.

A lot can happen in a year. A person can start out swiping clumsily on every dating app under the sun to avoid the feeling of intense loneliness, but later end up rejecting the idea that his happiness is tied to someone else, and begin working toward his goals independently of dependence. The important thing is still allowing for the occasional jaunt out of the comfort zone, putting oneself in situations where the unexpected could happen, exercising the confidence muscles. Last year it was improv class, this year, intro to acting for adults. Why? Well, why the fuck not, really? I don't plan on readjusting my career trajectory toward Hollywood at any point, I just wanna do some shit I used to find really fun in high school. So maybe this is all part of it? Getting outta the comfort zone? I've certainly gotten too comfortable where I am. So it's probably high time I start changing that. A new job. Some new hobbies. A new destination, maybe? I've been in this apartment for three and a half years. I'm not even the same person now who moved back in here then.

A lot has fucking happened in three and a half years.

[whythewords]

Nameless, Dateless

November 9, 2024 7:01pm

Being at a wedding  by yourself hits different. I think I took for granted that the first (and I think only other) wedding I went to since being separated/divorced, I was seated at a table with a bunch of good friends. This is different. I know no one at this table and next to one at this wedding.

It's been a weird few weeks. Therapy has been eye opening. I feel like there were things I was still hanging onto...go figure said the guy having a tough time at the wedding.

But overall I'm okay. There's so much I want and I think that most days I can look forward and say "hey, that's going to be really fucking hard, but I'll get there." Hard is not impossible. It definitely still feels impossible some days, but I guess those days are getting fewer and farther between. I just want to be okay so bad and it feel like I'm so close but not quite there. Story of the last few years really.

Its almost the end of another year still being at my folks', and at the very least it feels like I'm having slightly less existential dread, so that's cool I guess.

We're getting there folks... we're getting there. And at the very least, I've almost survived another year. That's gotta count for something, right?

[whythewords]

Change the approach

I don't know man.

But I do. Maybe more than I have in a while. I typically write in this thing once a month or so and it's been a tad longer than usual this time but for some reason I feel like a year has gone by.

There was a couple of dates, but no connection. I paused the apps which I think has been overall a good decision for my mental health. Speaking of mental health, the therapy thing has been good. So good in fact that I opted to take an extra week between sessions for the next one because I said "I feel like I'm making good progress!"

Naturally a few days after that proclamation I'm not so sure. But I'm trying, lord knows I am. And it seems like I'm trying harder. Trying harder to work on my physical health for one thing. One of the prizes for the top 10 in that songwriting competition was a one year membership to LA Fitness. As little desire as I have to go to the gym, there is really no excuse when something like that drops into your lap, so I'm trying to get that going.

Oh yeah, shit. Let's not make this all doom and gloomy, I made it to the top 10 in that songwriting competition! That was truly one of the coolest experiences of my life. It ended up being a full weekend of hanging out with like-minded songwriters and musicians who were endlessly supportive of one another. I made some great connections which already turned into a gig, a songwriters showcase with a few of them last week. So hey, that's pretty fucking rad. We're gonna keep in touch and hopefully gig and collaborate some more.

Aside from that, I've tried to get back on track with my music stuff in general. The gym, healthy eating and exercise thing for my physical health, the music stuff for my mental health...among other things.

The job is wearing on me more and more, unfortunately. With each passing day it becomes a little more evident how undervalued I am there, which is a shame because there are definitely things to like about the gig...just not enough. I'm learning good shit to put on the resume, but I need to focus that attention outside of work as well and finally finish this god damn certification. That'll make it easier to find a new job, and hopefully not one in Mississauga.

I had an honest, frank conversation with my folks about what seems like the only long-term solution to both of our issues (them tiring of the apartment and me wanting my own space): we sell this place, pool our resources and buy a home with an in-law suite and separate entrance. It's the thing that seems most viable right now. The only problem with it is how damn expensive everything is...at least here.

Even though this was partially my dad's idea from years ago, he's the one giving the most pushback. He wants to stay in Mississauga...hell I'd love to as well, but it's impossible. There is nothing that fits the description of what we need in this city that is nearly affordable enough to keep our mortgage payments low and manageable enough for me to handle on my own. I told my dad this and he said the only other place he may be willing to move is London, Ontario since his brother, my uncle Mike, who he's quite close with just moved out there. Uncle Mike has a daughter from his second marriage and she's become a de facto granddaughter for my folks (lord knows I ain't giving 'em a grand child anytime soon.) They're both close with the family. And London has places, a surprising amount of them, that fit the description of what we need and are roughly in our price range.

This could work. It's still a long shot. It's certainly not a sure thing. I need a job out there, we need to figure out the logistics of using the equity of this apartment along with my saved money to buy a new place before we even sell this one. There's work to be done, conversations to be had, there are boxes to be checked...but it's a plan, or at least some semblance of a plan.

I don't know if this is going to happen. but I can try to hitch my wagon to it, and use it as motivation to do some good for myself. There is a light at the end of this tunnel. Fuck, just let me get there.

[whythewords]

East Coast State of Mind

Another entry in the midst of inter-province travel from our resident jet-setter (not really). I tap this into my phone mid-flight back from a week-long trip to Nova Scotia to visit a very good friend and his family. A few old pals of mine who grew up together headed over there last year as well, and one of them had already been going for a few years prior so it seems we're turning this into something of a tradition, which I am all for.

There was typical east coast merriment of the seafood, rural charm and "overall chill vibes" variety. I believe I've mentioned more than once on here that I would be more than open to a new job/home/life out on the east coast, and that thought hasn't really left my brain (though it has varied in its intensity over the years).

Unfortunately that means that I'm still in a weird place with my current gig, clearly pining for something better, higher paying, affording me the ability to afford my own home.

I got together with another childhood friend a few days before departing, my friend Matt who I've spoken about and is now not only making his living mostly as a musician, but also happens to be a married and housed man. In a bit of an unexpected twist, he spoke to me on the merits of renting. We sort of agreed that it's likely just a "grass is always greener" situation, but more and more the concept of renting a place just to get out of my current environment is seeming like a good overall decision for my mental health. If I could get into a position where I could rent a place, but still have some sort of investment on the side that's still growing, it may be worth it.

But that's the rub: my tolerance for my current job is waning fast, my capacity to deal with living at home has been chipped away at significantly already, and my overall dismay with dating and romantic prospects is at an all-time high. Unfortunately, that sentence is sort of a perfect summation of the majority of my entries here for the last year...or more.

I went on one more actual date since the last post which ended awkwardly and it was abundantly clear that a second date wasn't in the cards. Fortunately nothing jarring, just no real connection. But it hung me up as these situations often do. I hung on to the app as I had made a pact recently to try not to get too discouraged and give up altogether when these things happen, but I've reexamined my prospects and taken an admittedly apathetic approach to the whole thing since. Didn't bother with pursuit. Some matches came in, no real effort on their parts so I responded in kind, with no effort. One other slightly more interesting prospect slid in before wrapping up my time in Nova Scotia and a nice little repartee has formed, so we'll do what we always do: see where it goes.

Being that these entries lean heavy on the side of gloom and doom, I think it's important to go back to an old trope of this little journal and talk about some things that I'm thankful for. For starters this trip was great, just what the doctor ordered. I definitely needed time away from my apartment with my folks and from the job. And of course time with friends (especially ones you haven't seen in a while) is time well spent. I also joined up with a local songwriting competition and just found out that I have advanced to the semi-finals and get to perform again at Port Credit Buskerfest a little later this month, and that's really exciting! I've been wanting to lean more heavily into my music stuff like I used to and this is a golden opportunity to do so, and it came at the right time. Finally, I did something I should have done a long-ass time ago and pulled the trigger on going back to therapy. I have a consultation with a new therapist later this week and I'm feeling good about actually starting to figure my shit out again with a little bit of help from a professional, rather than going it alone.

It's not too late for me....and yeah, that's something that I probably need convincing to fully believe, but a change can come. It's possible. I gotta keep telling myself. God damn it, it's gonna be okay. Soon.

[whythewords]

Bourbon Drunk at Club Med

What a fine mess this is. 

Alright, it's not a mess. 

Tomorrow (technically today) I go back home after this 3 day work trip to Charlevoix, Quebec (at there Club Med resort no less). The plan was to do what I did last night: chill out until after dinner and then retire to my room to watch TV or play Switch. 

Tonight I didn't do that. Tonight I had...not small amount of bourbon on the rocks and hung out at the bar with the client manager from here in Quebec. Then when I finally got back to the room, chatted with a few girls on Hinge with slightly more (drunken) confidence than usual.

It turns out that the interview for the municipal gig is in a couple of weeks. This may very well be my last hurrah with this company. Might as well go out with a bang?

Maybe it's the bourbon talking. 

Maybe the bourbon talking every once in awhile ain't so bad.

[whythewords]

In all unfairness

Hard to say what I'm feeling these days... That's a lie, all I do is talk about my feelings. It's never been more apparent how desperately I need to go back to therapy.

I'm keying this entry into my chosen notes app on my phone while on a plane...but much unlike the last time I did this, I am not on my way to Japan for the trip of a lifetime and a journey of self-discovery. Instead, I'm heading to Quebec for a 3 day work trip as part of a job I stopped liking all that much some time ago now. Our agenda is a lot fuller than last year's work trip, but realistically how much could I complain about being put up at a bougie resort. I brought my Nintendo Switch and plenty to entertain me during after hours. I sense there's gonna be less fraternizing with my co-workers when I don't have to this time around, but we'll see.

Either way, I applied for the local municipality gig and I'm feeling decent about that. It's a step closer to where I wanna be, I think. It's progress, and any progress is good progress right now.

Wish I could say the same for dating. I had a date this past Thursday night that may go down in history as one of my worst experiences on these apps thus far...but it didn't start that way.

I drove all the way out to Oshawa to meet this girl, (but in fairness, I did offer to come out her way as I often do on these first dates). She arrived at the bar and she looked, honestly stunning...better than her photos by a country mile which is something that definitely does not normally happen. She sat down and we got to talking. The conversation was flowing, I was making her laugh, it felt fun, and free and flirty. All my misgivings about "making a move" with the last girl I dated through the apps had lead me to awkwardly move in for the kiss on the third date. That nervous energy wasn't present here, or at least it wasn't the same. We were 20 minutes in before I confidently thought to myself: "this is working! There's a really good chance I make out with this girl...tonight!" Oh, if I only knew what was coming...

As we're getting ready to leave the bar, she steers the conversation toward politics, and as it turns out, she seems to think that society has been making too big a deal out of this whole racism thing (this take was particularly wild being that she was a biracial woman). Then she begins with the transphobic rhetoric of "someone can't be something just because they say they are" and other fun statements like that. My heart sank. This was the first time I had felt a real, exciting, solid connection with someone, pretty much since my ex-wife. We were VIBING HARD as the kids say...and in an instant it turned out she was not at all the kind of person I could see myself in a relationship with. I felt so very defeated, like the universe had just played a sick joke on me.

That lingered on my mind for several days...it's still there really. I was thinking that after an experience like that it was definitely time to pack it up and take a hiatus from the apps again, lord knows I've decided take a break from them for a lot less. Oddly enough though, I didn't. I don't know if it's apathy, or perhaps some last little flickering light of unwavering hope somewhere inside of me, but I took a deep breath and asked myself: why leave? Why leave if I'm just going to end up right back here anyway? I think I know what I want. I know I want to be in love again. Why not just...keep trying to figure it out? The girl I mentioned in my last entry here is still in the mix, the date just got postponed...and there are some other prospects. So why not just...continue?

So for now I will. After all, the world looks pretty small right now from this plane. My person is bound to be out there somewhere right?

They gotta be.

[whythewords]

You might as well do something Part II (or How I Ended Up Day Drinking at a Town-Wide Garage Sale 90 km Southwest of Home)

It’s a weird one. My last entry was March? I’m sure a lot of things have happened since then but I’m not going to recap all of them in excruciating detail…I only remember them in slightly painful, pins-and-needles-ey detail.

I think it took only about until the end of March for me to get back on the dating apps. My track record of being a glutton for punishment is holding strong. There’s something about the distraction of it that’s drawing me in these days. I’d like to think that rejection after rejection, false start after false start, I’m becoming more and more numb to the whole thing and finding it easier to withstand and recover from things that don’t work out. I wanna keep telling myself I’ve adopted a sort of caution-to-the-win, devil may care attitude, but nope…just numbness. Sounds totally healthy! Well, oddly in some ways I think it is. More and more I’m understanding that somewhere, in the wide chasm between overinvestment and complete dissociation, there lies an approach to this whole thing that is suitable and perfect for me. I think I’m almost there.

Hey, speaking of overinvestment, I checked in on my investment accounts and finally had a proper conversation with someone at the bank about mortgage approvals. The investments don’t seem to be netting as much as they should, and the mortgage guy told me exactly what I already knew from months of cursory research: “you can’t afford shit in the GTA!” (that’s not verbatim of course, just my interpretation).

Amid all this there have been talks of other jobs. There’s a public sector job in Guelph that pays quite well that a friend is doing his damndest to get me an interview for. It’s still a hell of a longshot so I have to temper my expectations, but should it work out, it might open up a new door of possibility of potentially getting a place, my OWN place, out there somewhere. Again, an absolute longshot, gotta be practical, gotta be ready for any outcome. The other side of that coin is that jobs at my local municipality are apparently opening up again at some point and I may have a very good opportunity to slide in there. I did my co-op there. There’s a comfort. It’s abundantly clear that I would probably like a public sector job like that much more than my current gig, and likely learn more too without hitting a wall. That’s a safer bet than the other gig but also doesn’t get me that much closer to independence. In that case I have to consider other options: Stick around longer and save more to buy a place eventually. Buy a rental property that I can rent out for a couple years and eventually move into…after sticking around longer. The options are bleak (because they mostly involve me sticking around longer). But I’d jump on the opportunity to take the same or maybe slightly more pay at the city locally and work my way up while attempting to figure out a living situation. The current gig has run its course…despite the fact I’m doing a charity walk with those work folks this weekend and likely going to be on our annual work trip (this time out of province) in a couple of weeks. Something tells me these other jobs are set to crop up right around then. Timing sure can be a bitch. I suppose we’ll see.

Anyway, to keep my sanity amid all of this anxious spiralling about my future, I typically spend time with friends. There was supposed to be a family BBQ this long weekend but being that my brother was the one planning it, there was consistent uncertainty when and whether it would happen. Knowing this, I used it as an excuse to dodge an invite up to a little township called New Dundee with some friends, to stay with their uncles and take part in a Victoria Day festival and a town-wide garage sale. But then there I was on Saturday night thinking about it. I remembered being in a similar situation with these same friends, going similarly to an out-of-town event and me silently deciding that spending time alone over the weekend would somehow be a better use of time…and then another friend convinced me to just go and have some new experiences instead. In fact, I’m certain it was an entry on this very tumblr page a couple years back. I was already at my friend place locally for a hangout. I motored on home to grab change of clothes and some more stuff. On the way back, I realized that I forgot to bring any travel toiletries at all so I went by the local Shoppers Drug Mart and essentially made up a brand-new travel bag for myself (which I later realized I could also use for the upcoming work trip!). I crashed at his place in town and then drove with him to New Dundee bright and early the following morning.

His uncles’ place was absolutely gorgeous. Aspirational really. We sifted and sorted and organized and priced everything for the big sale the following day. His uncle’s husband put us to work gathering firewood from the backyard to stack in the garage for a bonfire later, but once that was done, we had a blast. Our hosts were incredibly hospitable. After a shower (in a tub that is so goddamn big it has ruined all other tubs for me) we ate some great food cooked and brought up by my friend’s mom. We drank and laughed and hung out. We walked the short walk up to the festival grounds to catch a great fireworks show. We came back and had a bonfire where I threw away my inhibitions and lead many a singalong on my handy little travel guitar (and the scotch offered up by my friends’ uncle and a few hits of the joint I had brought up with me certainly helped that cause). Back to work the next morning setting up for the sale. We enjoyed (but also melted in) the very warm weather we’ve been waiting for, continued drinking(and eating), made some sales, cracked some jokes. Packed everything up around mid-day, took a break, relaxed and chatted and then our hosts made us dinner and sent us on our way. I met some new people, had some new experiences…this is all that out-of-comfort-zone shit I keep telling myself to do and it applies everywhere, to music, to dating…

Oh yeah…dating. One more thing about that I guess: at some point before all this stuff happened and after my last entry, there was another non-starter. We matched, we chatted we went on one date, and despite the fact that we seemed to align on many things there was just…nothing there. I’m usually the one to just push through that and see if things just need more time to develop but it was simply not the case here. I didn’t want to continue. Maybe that’s a good sign? Maybe I’m getting better at determining what it is I want? I dunno, maybe not.

Since then and over the course of the last few weeks’ events, there have been a few other matches. I always tend to try to naturally float my situation into the conversation early so I can weed out any of my potentially perceived dealbreakers. Essentially, I try to let ‘em know the tricky stuff before we actually meetup so as not to waste anyone’s time. The tricky stuff I’m referring to is of course the whole “previously married, living with my folks” thing. A few people have carried on the conversation since (which is a surprise). One of them had a response that was particularly sweet. After explaining my whole backstory and multiple changes over the short span of time during peak COVID, she expressed sympathy and asked how I was doing with things now. I can’t explain it since this was all only through text but it was done in such a way that it seemed like a genuine sentiment of “oh man that sucks, I really hope you’re okay.” I could be completely delusional from all the time I’ve spent trying to figure this whole dating/apps thing out, who knows. Anyway, I asked her out, we’ll see what she says, and if she says yes, we’ll see where that goes.

Why do I keep doing this to myself? Who can tell, really. Hey, new experiences, right?

[whythewords]

I think you better wise up, boy

And just as quickly as it began, another dating adventure comes to a close.

As things around me started to get dodgier and more upsetting, I took a little solace in the fact that the one thing that never works for me was working. Three dates we went on, a fucking record for me since the divorce. Also the first woman I've kissed since splitting up with my wife. All seemed well...until it wasn't. I got a text citing the usual story of the last few dating experiences, she felt like the compatibility wasn't there. And just like that, the proverbial saddle that I put myself back in is now being packed up and put away for the umpteenth time.

I should not be relying on these things for my happiness, but fuck does it ever hurt more when everything else is also coming apart at the seams.

We exchanged the texts yesterday to end things off. Then I fell into a funk. Today, my only work-from-home day of the week, was full of inane requests and painful training sessions, each time through I remember how very specific this stuff is meaning it is absolutely useless to me in the rest of my career. The pangs of working for a marketing company, knowing full well that I have never meshed well with sales and marketing and advertising and the people in those worlds. Again, it's been only a year and it's my first job in IT so I can't be too upset...but I think I'm warranted to point out how fucked up it is that what was sold to me an IT job is about 30% actual IT and technology and 70% busywork that they could train any ol' John Doe to do.

There was work being done on the apartment so drills and power tools rang in my head all day causing it to ache. My throat was sore and dry after another useless 2 hours of droning training sessions about an application I will never use again in my entire fucking life after this job. Then I made dinner for my folks. Then those contractors tripped the fire alarm in the building. There's that headache again! Did I mention our washer blew up and we've been doing laundry at the coin laundromat, which I also have to do tonight rather than a much needed workout?

With everything going on: my disenfranchisement with the job, another dating thing crashing and burning, the constant reminder that I am still stuck here in this apartment with my folks, I feel so defeated.

Wanna know the fucked up thing? I almost didn't disable/delete the dating apps after all that. Part of me was willing to think things through: "now wait a minute here...perhaps I am ready to get hurt again!" I don't know what that is. At this point I think it falls somewhere between desperation and psychopathy.

Maybe it's time I go back to therapy.

Then again, therapy's expensive...and I desperately need to find a new place to live....

[whythewords]

Only Almost

Even if all the plates seem to be spinning, if everything seems on balance, it is still a certainty that a fall or a break is inevitable. The job is going okay if a little shitty at times. This shit is revealing itself a lot more as of late, revealing the clunkilly run nature of a bunch of marketing people's facsimile of what an IT department is supposed to look like. But for now it's serviceable. But what if I don't want serviceable?

My life as it stands right now is serviceable. But this isn't the end goal and it's far from it. I don't want a "serviceable" life. I want a good life. You figure when the dating thing is going well (or at least better than it has gone in the past), and when work is okay, that the rest will fall into place. You figure "maybe I'm just overly dramatic, just looking for something to complain about."

I woke up in a haze this morning (surely due in no small part to springing forward an hour). I was demanded to the table to have breakfast with my folks. Something struck in my mind in just the right way reminding me that as it still stands, I am at the mercy of other people's schedule and not my own. And I lost it. As has happened luckily only once or twice since moving in here, I had a full emotional breakdown centred around one phrase that's been resonating for me since mid-way through 2021: "It wasn't supposed to be like this." I was never supposed to be pulled into a foreign, non-creative part of a video production job that I would eventually grow to hate. I was certainly never supposed to get divorced, and have to move back in with my parents. I wasn't supposed to struggle my way through and take the first IT job that came along so that I could make enough money to move out again, only to find that if I want to continue living in the GTA, the deck is now financially stacked against a single income person just looking for a basic place to live. I wasn't supposed to have to pivot to looking for jobs hours out of the way, far from my friends and my family because those locales are cheaper to live in, but realize that jobs also pay less out there.

It wasn't supposed to go this way. And all of that hit me like a fucking train this morning. But there's a simple fact that runs counter to that: it wasn't supposed to, but it did. It fucking did. And that's a part of life sometimes. I never expected it to be a part of mine but this is the hand I was dealt. Just because it's been almost three years since separating from my wife and starting this grand reset, doesn't really mean shit unless I keep up the pace and keep working.

But I'm tired man. I'm just so fucking tired.

[whythewords]

Saddle up

In the vain of the last post, is there a point in updating this anymore? I think I do it more for my own benefit because realistically the application of this whole thing is to get these thoughts onto a (digital) page. I've oftentimes in the last little while thought that I didn't have much to say, until I started saying it. Then it flowed out like water breaking through a dam.

Things are where they were, they're where I left them. I'm still trying to make moves to...well..move. I SAY I'm trying harder to make it happen this year, but realistically I've done a lot planning for the steps I should be taking and not actually taking said steps. I feel like I said something to that effect last time too...or maybe it was the time before that. It's all starting to run together.

Work has been kicking my ass the last few weeks. Again, something I feel like I've already asked but I guess it bares repeating: is it too early to be bitter? And maybe bitter is too strong a word. I contend in other discussions about this gig that my worst day is here is still better than my best day at the old job. I haven't had full-on panic attacks. I haven't had a day so shitty that all I wanted was the warmth of my home and for it still to be at least an hour out of my grasp...and be kinda shitty there too anyway. Well...I guess things are shitty at home now as well but for different reasons. But at least I'm close by.

That's the other thing. I know my folks mean well, but it's been increasingly tough lately. I went to see an old friend in Toronto and was riddled with texts and phone calls because I hadn't come home yet and it was late. 37 years old and being checked in on, helicopter parented by my 80 and almost 80 year old folks. I lost my damn mind and got into a huge blowout with my dad over it..and fuck even that...even that is some teenager bullshit. I just don't want any of it. I've been spending far less time with them and it's not too hard for them to notice when someone is avoiding them in their own home. My mom seems more understanding of my plight...my dad is the one who makes comments. Just moments ago he brought me a plate of fruit, admittedly a very sweet and homey gesture and something I would SURELY miss if I was off living on my own...and as he set it down he said "here, since you don't want to spend time with us anymore." The implication being that they were having fruit earlier while watching Jeopardy! which I used to watch with them pretty frequently, but I opted not to tonight. I bowed out of the tradition.

And you know what? He's fucking right. I DON'T want to spend time with them anymore. At least not right now. Not after spending almost 3 years with them beginning during one of the most truly shitty times in my life, and trying to claw my way back to some sense of normalcy and claim SOME semblance of the independence that one would think ought to be allotted to an employed, fairly intelligent 37 year old man. If I move far, mom already said they're gonna go where I go so I am going to keep seeing them frequently, but on my own terms and with the ability to retreat to my own space. And if they stay out here in Mississauga, I'm gonna be back out here visiting friends and family constantly anyway...and friends in Toronto, and friends in Guelph, and friends in Burlington....

And maybe a girl in Burlington? But let's not get our hopes up. Let's not do the same thing we do every single god damn time we get a little deep into these dating apps. So yeah, that happened again (against my better judgment.) I was seeing some old friends this past Friday night (those ones in Toronto, in fact) that I hadn't seen in a while. We were talking about dating and it came to light that couples in healthy (or I suppose unhealthy) relationships oftentimes have a weird FOMO about the dating apps and like to live vicariously through their single friends. I don't know if it's necessarily just FOMO or more of an "oh wow look at the freak show" mentality, but either way I said "fuck it" and decided to download the two apps I had profiles on so we could marvel at the state of dating right now all together. This is after I had pledged to myself and others that I would stay off that shit until I figure out this next chapter of my life. Now, in my defence...the alcohol was flowing...(one full beer on a half empty stomach, because that's all it takes for my old ass these days...I didn't say it was the best defence.) So I got out the phone and casted to their TV and we swiped and we laughed and we drank. One of the friends posited that we should get together again but go out to a bar instead and she would be my "wingwoman" and all that, and it all was very fun and light-hearted. But by the end of it, I did tell them both that there was a good chance these apps would be off my phone again in a couple of weeks.

Cut to the next day. Saturday morning. No big plans. A few matches. And now I'm in it. Halfway true to my word, I very quickly deleted one of the apps as there was absolutely no traction there, but there were a few light conversations happening on the other one. A couple of new matches over the course of the week, some conversations, and one in particular that quickly resulted in a date after just a few days of chatting. What's more, she was the one to ask me out which was a surprising and welcome change from the flakiness I'd experienced from the last couple of women I had "successful" meetups with on the apps. The date was fine. Simple. We had drinks and chatted and got to know each other a little better. We already have another one scheduled for next Tuesday. These should be good things...but I'm worried.

I'm worried about the hole I dug myself into after the last couple of connections I made on these apps. I'm worried that I felt so committed to NOT being on the apps while I figured the rest of my life out, that maybe that mentality is still lingering. I still have walls up. I had to really actually try to tell myself during the date to drop my guard a little bit. I told my friend this and he expressed concern that I shouldn't jump in if I don't feel ready...but I've BEEN doing this...I've BEEN ready. I think I'm ready just not nearly as...I don't know...hopeful? And that's sad. But I am willing, SO fucking willing to have my mind changed. So we'll see. Rolling with the punches is sort of the name of the game here. Don't wanna over-invest...don't wanna be aloof and dismissive. Just need to meet in the middle.

Maybe that improv class I've been taking will help with the dating thing and allow me some more unguarded spontaneity? Maybe I just needed a smooth transition into talking about the improv class. It has been a fucking blast, actually. I have looked forward to it every Tuesday and it's been a nice consistent routine and activity to get outta the house with. And tomorrow is the last session...(technically today because it is well past midnight and fuck I should be sleeping). I can't believe 8 weeks already passed. It fucking flew by. And I definitely think I wanna take the next class in the series or do an acting class at the theatre centre closer to me or just...something. I need another fun thing I can do for a little while to just get out of my same-ass routine.

This is all sort of reminiscent of my brief time in Toronto that I previously mentioned being nostalgic for. It was a rediscovery: Getting more involved in music, going out mid-week to just "check out the scene" as it was. Hell, that was my first experience on the dating apps as well. And that first part was fun...it was always fun until it wasn't. But I'm here now, and I'm trying again because I just might as fucking well right?

So here we go.

Back in the saddle.

[whythewords]

It's a living

I've had a weird thing where I felt as if I had a lot to say about what's been going on with me for the last few days but I kept hitting this invisible wall. I came back here to put in an entry on the ol' personal journal/public Tumblr blog available for all to see (that only like three people know I still post to), and I'm paralyzed by thinking about the monotony of the last month or so.

More and more I feel as if I need to get outta my parents' place and to my own space, and I'm making a more concentrated go at it, but that's also right on theme. I still crave the solitude that comes with that whole ordeal, but I also still get sad occasionally when I think about the lack of romantic connections. That said, I'm making a consorted effort to stay off the apps for now while I continue to figure my shit out. I've also opted to embrace the finality of the end of the defining romantic relationship of my life so far and allow myself to drift further and further out of the sphere of communication with that person, that world, that part of myself. I feel like that's going to be overall better for my mental health.

These are all things I thought to say, but these are right up there with the rest of those "greatest hits" of my life over the last little while. This is my reality, and it will be until it changes. Knowing it can change and believing that it will soon makes up the cloud of hope that I'm trying to stay in. But there are also occasional moments of doubt. It's all the positive/negative push/pull I've described so far on a somewhat more macro level. But that's just what it is: a set of Russian nesting dolls of conflicting emotions.

That's why maybe it's good to focus on the micro: I started my certification class for more tech stuff, that's a step in the right direction, a step to getting outta here. Oh, I also started taking improv classes a couple of weeks ago and they have been very fun. I figure it's way to meet people, get to know them, get outta my comfort zone a little bit. That's super fun because you have to be in the moment, but the content can be whatever you want. It's a little chance to play pretend when everything outside of the class sometimes gets a little too real, at least in terms of what I'm feeling during those lonely or anxious moments.

Little by little I keep making my way up the path. This coming March will be one year at the new job. I was hoping to be out and gone to another locale before then but perhaps that's unrealistic. I feel like I'm better equipped these days to handle that fact. But I do keep telling myself that this is the year. This is when it'll all finally happen. And all I can do is keep living in the meantime. There's an abundance of things to look forward to. That's good because as further as I make it on this quest to get where I'm going, I'm gonna need something to focus on.

Speaking of focus, I barley can right now thanks to another "greatest hit" of the last little while: a shitty sleep schedule!! I've read and re-read what I've typed here several times while unwittingly drifting off to dreamland so I think it's time to do that for real. But the sleepiness does mean that most of what I just wrote here could be a hot mess of disjointed non-sequiturs and run-on sentences.

But hey, life goes on and so must I, right?

[whythewords]

Thirty-Seven Special

Twelve minutes ago, December 17th ended and a new day began, meaning my birthday has officially come and gone. I took Thursday and Friday off leading up to this weekend, I had some very low-key hangouts with one or two friends over the last couple of days. Today my folks insisted upon a dinner together, I repeatedly stated that I wanted nothing which became a point of contention for some reason.

It all sort of hit different this year, and it hit hard and sudden. I wasn't in the mood to celebrate. It's not about "feeling old," it's not thirty-seven in particular, it's the weight of the last few years and knowing the journey is still happening. It's not so much "thirty-seven" as it is "thirty-seven and living with my folks." Or perhaps it's "thirty-seven and just now beginning to figure out my career." Or, more likely it's a combo of those two things, a few others, and "thirty-seven and single." And boy was I reminded of that last one. My dad has always laid it on thick with the "bring us a grandchild" shtick but he's been consistently aggressive with it this week, up to and including my birthday. Three separate times in the day he made some sort of comment asking me why I was single, what was taking me so long, how long am I going to wait, etc. It was fucking jarring, considering the fact that the girl I had been speaking to for over 5 months, with whom I was FINALLY going to have a second date this past Thursday...just pulled out of the whole engagement.

A couple of days before we were set to meet, she messaged me saying she wanted to be upfront and honest and not waste my time, but she was feeling no romantic connection. No connection. After some texting, a handful of phone conversations and one date (which I thought went exceedingly well and got very strong signals from her indicating the same). Five months is a long time to only go on one date, so I get that aspect of it...but then why hang on for that long? I assumed she was still interested in following it where it went, seeing as she was still actively speaking with me and making plans. And the postponing/rescheduling/waiting fell on her side of the court, at least over the last few weeks. We had talked on the phone just a couple of days before she ended things. Again, that was a seemingly nice conversation where we shared some laughs, all seemed well. But apparently it wasn't. It's perplexing, and frustrating and ultimately...fine. It has to be fine because there is nothing I can do about it. I really felt like I was doing things right. But who knows.

She did float the idea of remaining friends since we had clearly developed a nice rapport. I politely declined. It would have been nice to hang out and remain friends, she was sweet and funny and I thought we had a great deal in common...but I know me, and I would likely get hung up and wait for the next opportunity where "more than friends" was back on the table. If we had met through friends (which is a lost art I fucking WISH would be my reality as opposed to these awful god damn apps), then I feel like a friendship would have developed naturally first and we could have remained as such. But we didn't. We met on a dating app, where one typically goes to find someone to date. A romantic connection....which is what I want...at least I think that's what I've determined.

All this to say, I've found myself very suddenly coming down with a bad case of the end-of-the-yearsies. And any time not spent with friends these last few days was spent alone in my room, paralyzed with anxiety about all of the things I should be doing but aren't. But I do think that after this last full week of work I'll be able to relax for real. Take a deep breath. Enjoy the company of friends and family. And then I can plan. Recalibrate. Try to look ahead with determination rather than doubt. There's not just career moves and living situation moves to make. I'm looking to find some new opportunities to get out of my comfort zone, some activities/routines to get me outta the house and meeting people (without the use of awful dating apps). There's also a few music-related things on the horizon that I am excited for.

There's a logical conclusion to the story of the last few years for me, a happy ending I'm working towards after the divorce, and the career change and the move. I see it in my mind almost every god damn day. I know what I want it to look like, and I know that there is actually potential that it CAN look like that, it's just a matter of when.

New year's comin'...

Maybe this will be the year?

Maybe.

[whythewords]

Caught Sleepin'

The post-lunch slump hit me like a freight train today. I'm tired but I don't wanna sleep. It's 5:30pm, I should at least hold off for a few more hours...just not too long as I have been doing.

My sleep has devolved back into a maddening, inconsistent mess. I feel as though my general health has suffered a fair bit in the last while. I'm not sure how much of it I can blame on stress and lack of general mental well-being. I've realized that I desperately need to re-evaluate my fitness goals. I feel like I overindulged on that Mexico trip, I'm as heavy as I've ever been and looking to put a pin in it. Great timing discovering this right before the holidays, the time of the year designed for marathon eating.

The trip to Mexico was an interesting one. It was mostly fun, a little somber. My friends' father passed away while we were there (on Día de los Muertos/the Day of the Dead no less). They knew it was coming and had spent plenty of time with him and said their goodbyes but it doesn't make it suck any less. I'll be playing music at his celebration of life this Friday. In fact I had a regular gig this past Friday, and spent some time with those same friends on Saturday. It was supposed to the weekend of date # 2, but would you look at that? Postponed again. I start to worry again if this one is gonna fizzle like the one last year. You know, that one other half-decent connection I had through these apps in over 365 days. Apparently there will be more time in December. One can hope. That's all one can do.

I'm not entirely sure how I feel about the fact that I'll be 37 next month. Mostly because I'm still here in this apartment. I'm starting to make moves to get out sooner rather than later but with real estate being what it is right now I don't like my chances.

This post is a disjointed mess because of how god damn tired I am, basically falling into several microsleeps between paragraphs.

Even still, it's all the greatest hits of what this journal has perpetually been for the last couple of years. "I'm sad! I'm lonely! Dating is hard! I don't wanna live here anymoooooore!"

I suppose that will make it that much better when it does finally change. A big career break. An opportunity to move out and reclaim my independence. A real shot at a real romantic relationship.

I mean, I'm due for at least one of 'em right?

So what'll it be?

[whythewords]

Ebbs and flows (Shot, Reverse Shot)

Sometimes it feels like an entire lifetime has transpired between posts. Thinking about the time that has transpired is bittersweet. On one hand it's like "oh shit, time is really getting away from me" and on the other hand it's like "oh shit, look how far I've come!" And that remains the state of this whole journal thang. Duality. The shitty times and the good. Ebbs and flows. Reading through that last post, I vividly remember the feelings of hopelessness around dating, around feeling stuck.

It's always ebbs and flows, it seems. My outlook is still kinda gloomy. I didn't sleep well at all last night and I was in bed almost all day today feeling like absolute death. It's hard not to contemplate how I would deal with situations like this differently if I had my own space. Or maybe I wouldn't even be in this predicament because I would have a more consistent healthy routine and get the things I want to do done during the day and actually sleep at night. We're in that weird transitional period between seasons where al the winter clothes need to be dug out and summer clothes put away. Three people in a two bedroom place means there's not a lot of room for everything and so a lot our clothes are in storage. Even the minor inconvenience of digging everything out brought on those thoughts of 'what if?' "In my own place I wouldn't have to deal with this shit. It would all just be there in one spot."

I do my best get over these humps and resume some form of mental stability and normalcy. I try to think about positive strides. Work is still just okay, but 'just okay' is a lot better than awful and I have to keep that in mind. I'm starting the process of doing some certification courses, making moves, to hopefully make more money, to hopefully make some LITERAL moves sooner rather than later. Talked to the folks at my bank about saving more over the next little while, started the conversation about mortgage pre-approvals and what it would ACTUALLY take to move out. Baby steps. Wish they weren't so baby, but they're steps. Seems to be a theme doesn't it? "Just okay" is better than "awful." "Baby steps" are better than no steps at all. And a date is better than no date.

That one girl who I told myself not to freak out about when the date didn't happen...the one prospect left after all of the seemingly "great luck" I was having on the apps for a while...the one girl I had been talking to since all the way back in July when I was visiting my friend on the East Coast...the "last remaining light" as it were (if I can invoke a little Audioslave)...the date didn't happen that day but it did eventually happen. And it went well. And I'm seeing her again in a couple of weeks. And she's cool and she's nice and all I can really do is hope it goes well.

I have a bad habit of getting too invested. It happened almost a year ago to the day, with the one other girl from these apps that I seemed to have a decent connection with. It fizzled early, after two dates. All I can really hope for is to make it to three this time. Just let it rock. Don't get my hopes up too high. I suppose I have to remember that if it doesn't work out, there are still so many other things to focus on. And the year is almost over. That part is fucking wild. But it means I made it another year.

There's another trip coming. In a week I'm going to Mexico with a small group and if I'm being honest, for the longest time I was kind of mad at myself I ever let them convince me to go. I was dreading it. A fucking trip to a tropical destination RIGHT as it's starting to get shit cold around here...and my spoiled ass was sulking about it. As it approaches now I'm coming to my senses and getting a bit more excited. It's another break from everything. Another opportunity to reset. Those don't really come as often as I want them so I should count my fucking blessings. AND my folks might take a little trip as well after I get back, meaning yet another nice stint of time where I've got the place to myself, when I can imagine what it'll be like when I'm back out on my own, when I've finally reclaimed the last of that independence I have been so fixated on.

It's ebbs and flows right? Sad, lonely, and sick of the same routine. Hopeful, open, and changing it up. I gotta grasp at those straws as they whizz past me as I fall super fucking fast toward my destination, not realizing the speed in which I'm moving.

There was a bit of an ant problem in my apartment the last few weeks. Got a few traps, seems to have cleared 'em right up. I'm sure there's a metaphor in there somewhere. There's always a solution I guess? Even if the solution is just knowing that a REAL solution will get here eventually.

Ebbs and flows. The flows are good, and demand to be gone with. So I'm going to try to go with the flow.

Until next time.