Looking back at my posts, I realize I’ve been in a bad mood. One might argue I’ve been in a bad mood for years (sic), but that aside. First off, we all deep down just hate the holidays, a lot of eating, drinking and talking festive shit, followed by such boredom we actually go out to the mall. Second, Single in the City was here and while we didn’t hang out as much as I’d like (he’s perpetually sick I’m finding, but I’m still trying to place him in a good home), it was nice to have a buddy in town, we’d text each day, quick chat. I’m sure if he were in DC, we’d hang out and ‘do stuff’. He has more drama than an off Broadway production. But I’m content to lay on the couch and listen.
I moved out to the suburbs yesterday. Truck, son and his friend helping, we did the whole move in record time. I’m German organized, it went like clock work. The apartment is fine, close to my house, light and bright, but despite me never going into the city, I feel a bit further out. The cost savings is significant and I just need to fire up my travel schedule.
I also realized I haven’t seen TC in almost a month. The good news, he arrives tomorrow. He’s as sweet as can be, continuing to call at all hours, he’s been saving money (I have access to his bank account) and looking to saddle up for another adventure. Between his job and family, he has few spare cycles. We will spend most of next week decompressing and resync’ing ourselves.
We as humans, won’t normally pick the rocky path, who the hells wants things tough? It is only when we are confronted point blank with what seems to be an insurmountable problem that we have to face it down or turn and run. But you can run only so far. It’s at these moments where you define the man (or woman) in you. A devastating illness, a death, a dramatic life change. I’m not talking minor shit, the car breaks down, you miss a flight or even losing a job.
I remember when I was wacked 2 years ago, Peter immediately suggested I go to the doctor to get meds. He reeled off a list of mood enhanced drugs that I might ask for. He had gone on meds when he and his long term girlfriend broke up. As he kept talking, all I could think, man you are such a pussy. Losing a job is not a life changing event and it will be like never when I will have to take fucking ‘happy’ pills. Life, bring it on bitch.
So you need to figure out whether you’re a pussy or not. It’s a simple question. Yes or no. I suspect that once you’re no longer a pussy, you’ll never be a pussy again. But no pussy really wants to be a pussy, but actions speak louder than words. All I can say is meow.