I paused the movie I’m watching to go get a beer.
A microbrew, and I only know that because when I scan the barcode in the “my fitness pal” app it prompts me to create a new food.
Maybe I’ve said this before: I hate that I feel good when I hallucinate that we’ll get back together.
I don’t know where these good feelings come from.
Logically, I don’t know why I would, even in a minuscule amount, feel good at all.
I can think of plenty of reasons why it’s not true, and I usually do after the warm and fuzzies, but maybe it’s this idea that, someone is going to “choose” me to be with, someone that already has a general idea of me, someone I won’t have to start from scratch with.
I mean there would be work, there’s always work, but maybe that small part of my mind/body/heart/soul likes the familiarity.
Who knows.
I can’t say I’m worth anything right now.
I’m in my late 30’s and still a “work in progress.”
No kids.
But also no car.
Barely a “place of my own.”
I live with family, and while that isn’t bad, trying to afford rent in Boston with everything else I got going on is a financial nightmare.
Let’s hope voting brings rent control, at least…
All of this to say that I’m typing this out before my beer.
The beer isn’t strong enough to make me forget, not tonight, but also last night I drank a whole bottle of wine alone and I’m still back to twiddling my thumbs.
Goddammit.