2 posts tagged “life”
Alright, I like to day dream. Sometimes a lot. Sometimes my day dreams are harmless, most times they end up with me being disappointed. See it all just happens so fast in my head. The poor bastard has no time to catch up.
The latest day dream? I'll arrive in the UK and the escapades with the ManHunk will pick up where they left off and I'll enjoy the rest of my visa time there in butterfly bliss. He, of course, will spend the next year with a lovely /feisty /adventurous lady on his arm. Namely me.
Despite the fact that jokingly he mentioned he would be an international play boy by easter. Fat chance. We all know men lie about these things. Right? What ever, my defense? I don't care.
There was a point here....
I am trying to find a place to live that isn't where I work. Live in pub jobs just aren't that great, especially if they come with their very own squatter and resident crazy grounds keeper who insists on leading people to believe he has some type of authority by wearing a business shirt to water the flowers. Crazy bastard. I know, I've been on the receiving end.
So I get an email about a house share. She's an older lady with a cat (you know, this could be handy, get some pointers perhaps?) and a spare double room only 3 miles from where I'll be working. But I can't inspect it when she wants me to, namely because I wont be in the country. So she sends me a lovely reply "If it's still empty by the 13th, I'll let you know".
Do you think she would have been so snotty had I said the truth about my arrival date? Seriously, who wants to be in transit for 24 hours and then go and check a house out? I want to have breakfast with my girlfriend, have a shower and then go to the pub for lunch and a bottle of white wine. I'm just asking for it aren't I? Maybe I don't want it bad enough, either way, today the day dream seems a little further out of reach then the usual impossible.
I'm not your 30-something-wondering-why-she's-single type. For starters, I'm not THAT old, and I know why I am single. It's a state of readiness.
See, some years ago my teen come young adult relationship ended. Even though it was my doing and then when I tried to undo it the bastard blatantly refused, I was devastated. For months I lost my appetite for food and just stuck to simple carbs like vodka.
Looking back over the past, say three years, I've developed certain habits and in no particular order;
-I roam the planet at every opportunity. I have tried to come home and establish some sort of normality, but I just get the itch (not the type that can be fixed with creams and a one time pill) to pack and go to some random country that's not too far away from another random country just in case I find myself out of my depth.
-I'm slowly but surely ridding myself of all my worldly possessions. If it can't fit in the back pack - it's not worth having. Sometimes the culling has lead me to tears, but it just has to be done.
-Other culling that has not lead me to tears - people. Not literally. Just out of my life. One step, two step and sometimes I allow three steps to turn me off and you're done. Seriously. Delete. Just like they never existed.
-I'm liking my own company more and more. After all, at least I get all of my jokes.
-I have serious commitment issues. The simplest things. I eat ALL food.
I like ALL types of music - yeah, including country. I mean, I can't
even commit myself to a job for longer then six months or come to think
of it, even a country.
and finally and most alarmingly
-I only get involved in relationships that I know will end.
Which leads us to my latest escapade.
I'm going to the UK because there is a boy. His fun. Also very handsome. I met him on my last trip.
Yes, yes, believe me I have done this before and fell flat on my face. In fact, it was just six months ago. The difference this time though, is, that I don't care. I'm not wearing my heart on my sleeve, I'm not investing any exuberant time or effort on him, his just going to be my ManCandy until I get bored and make my way to the next country.
