Tuesday night: Lewis, Dan, and right decisions

I enjoyed my two weeks of vacation; I monitored my emails but didn’t really do any work. It was bliss. Until I came back to work and had to deal with the onslaught of urgent things needing to occur this month. I enjoy it, which makes a huge difference – it’s usually good stress.

Tuesday I canceled on Lewis. I worked at my desk until after 6 pm, left to go home to eat with a glass of wine and my computer at my kitchen table. He was working late as well, so we agreed to touch base around 9 pm. While I was close to wrapping up my work then, I simply didn’t feel like getting together with him. I was tired, and wanted to write.

He was fine with it, saying for sure we’d need to have a session next week.  Continue reading

personal growth

I was going to write about Gentleman Douchebags…

…but I realized, while sitting at my kitchen island and drinking hot apple cider as a way to stave off the deep chill (literal, not metaphorical), it’s all about the stories we tell ourselves. When we think about our past, or our personal growth, what is the narrative we believe to be true, and how does it prevent us from seeing our behavior for what it actually is… or what we actually are?

I’ve created some mental space in my life by not seeking out anyone new and deleting those who haven’t made an effort. Yes, there are some men still around, but none are taking up much of my time or energy. I’ve been on an almost two-week vacation and have enjoyed time alone as it’s allowed me to focus on my book.

In trying to decide what to write about, I’ve done a lot of reflection on my journey. I’ve looked at every single blog post I’ve written. I’ve remembered men and experiences long-forgotten.  Continue reading

Zane wants children

When he wants children, and I don’t.

Zane and I have seen each other several times since we met at the party a few weeks ago. He wanted to see me again as quickly as possible, so we snuck in a short drink date the next day before I got Liam for the week. I liked him as much one-on-one as in the party atmosphere.

He is soft-spoken and very articulate. While he says he’s an old man inside and is worldly, he’s clearly in his mid-thirties. He asked me for advice on my work success and I died a little inside: it’s not the kind of relationship dynamic I’m looking for.

He’s told me how beautiful he thinks I am and marvels at how captivated he is. But he has none of the creepy clinger vibe of John. He’s not in love with love. In contrast, he tells me he’s picky and I believe him.  Continue reading

Blech. Leo Redux.

Ever since I broke up with him, Leo has been asking me out every couple of weeks.

“Hey Ann how about a drink after work on Wednesday?” he will text. I’ve consistently said no. I’ve even said (gently) that since we broke up, I wasn’t interested in continuing to date.

“It’s just as friends, Ann” he’d protest. “You have a friend for life.” Continue reading

I’m recovering. Kinda.

This is going to be short. It’s late at night, I’ve had too much red wine, I’m tired, sad, and my gut hurts.

I had my gallbladder out a week ago. Those of you who follow me on Instagram would know, but I didn’t write about it. I’ve been recovering and just went back into the office today. I experienced a common after-effect of surgery – depression – which thankfully didn’t last but was disconcerting regardless.

The sadness lingers but yesterday I could finally feel it starting to lift. My middle still hurts but each day is an improvement. Bruce has been in touch most days to send me wishes that I’m feeling better. It comforts me he’s been in touch – perhaps he wasn’t lying about it not being me. He’s been consistent in that he’s not calling, not having long conversations. Which is fine. Continue reading

Alan’s near demise

I’ve finally cured myself of my tendency to over-think everything. While I’ve had plenty male experiences to keep my mind occupied in the last few months, one thing I haven’t done is go down any rabbit holes of what-could-be and what-if.

It’s rather refreshing, frankly.

With Alan, while there were some things that concerned me about our potential compatibility, I decided to just let things play out. And play out, they have. Continue reading

Broken and high.

I broke my ankle in a completely undramatic way. Thought it was sprained but nope. Also, it needs surgery to fix it. So I’m in a hospital and have been for a couple of nights now. High on painkillers and unable to eat or drink.

Good times. All the time to write and none of the mental acuity to do so.

At least I still know what acuity means.

There’s something going around.

Several years ago, when I was still married, my Mom told me she was concerned I didn’t have a close-knit group of women in my life whom I could count on to be there for me no matter what.

Of course I argued with her, saying I had a couple of close friends who fell into that category.

But of course, there was real truth to her observation. One of my goals since becoming single was to build back up the friend relationships I had let go during my marriage, and build new connections as well. Freed from the restrictions of a judgey spouse who didn’t want to “take new friend applications” (yes, he said that), I could meet new people I like and invite them for dinner. I could spend quality time with existing friends and deepen or connection.

I’m rather proud of myself for doing just that.  Continue reading

sex and the elderly

I took a shower and went up to Bill | My Grandmother’s sex life

My grandmother tracked everything. Who needs an app to track when you have sex? She certainly didn’t.

Unfortunately, my Grandmother died when I was only 17. She was 77, a few years older than my Mother is today. Complaining of fatigue for months, her family doctor prescribed more and more medication. By the time she was hospitalized, her cancer was inoperable and she had mere months to live.

But this post isn’t about the failure of her doctor or her death; it’s about her sex life. Continue reading

I have whiskers.

Do you remember my lovely-then-momentarily-embarrassing story about The Comedian? Well, go back and read it.

Yeah. That.

I’m ONLY 42. Why has my body decided I need to have a chin hair? What good does this do?

Well, earlier this week I spotted another hair – who am I kidding, it would more realistically and less kindly be called a whisker – coming out of my cheek. Continue reading