I worked last night. Valentine’s day.
It’s just a day.
I love love, y’all know I do.
I sent Wolf extra pics and weird/personal Valentine’s messages I found on the internet.
He sent me beautiful messages and made sure I could treat myself to Starbucks. It truly is the little things. He said he needed me to tell him what I wanted so he could be better at getting me gifts. I smiled. He gave me a picture of him riding my favorite rollercoaster, that means more to me than anything. I can hear his internal dialog. “She loves this, I want to try it.” Doesn’t get better than that.
When I was in Florida, I bought him a fossilized shell.
We think of each other often, not just when the calendar says so.
Long distance isn’t easy, but he is so very worth it.
Work was not.
Dude walks into the bar and remarks on my tattoos.
He’s a chef, we shoot the shit. Then about 45 seconds after he tells me he doesn’t like his girlfriend’s back tattoo; he asks me out.
2 tings.
You literally just told me you have a girlfriend. He said “she lives in Vancouver, so it doesn’t count.”
Um, ya, it does. Mine is far away but I conduct myself like he is no further than the next room, always.
Second?
A strip club is not a girlfriend store.
I really think civilian women hate strippers, not because of what we actually do, but because how some dudes act around us. Knock it off.
Jerry Springer coined the philosophy I live by.
“Always behave like your significant other is in the next room.”
That man has seen some shit. Me too Jerry, me too.
My girl was
drunk last night, and I had to drive her car home. She wanted to text her toxic
ex.
I said, ‘you know how this ends… no sleep, bad sex and a full day of fighting
and you won’t make it to work tomorrow.’ She called him anyways, he didn’t
answer. Tiny miracles.
Found out yesterday that Final Boss unfriended me on Facebook.
In the immortal words of Stephen King
No great loss.
This cements the fact that the money I loaned him was indeed stupid tax. I am paid up on that, in full.
I think it was a bit of kismet that she got wasted and I had to stay sober. I can see very clearly some other timeline wherein I was the one drunk dialing the ex and she was tryna talk me out of it. It is all ego at this point. I hate being used and lied to.
But I’ve already said what I had to say. I know why he happened. And kudos to me, the 4.5 months he was in jail, I conducted myself like he was in the other room. Even when my twin flame walked into the bar. I cannot begin to tell you how hard that was. Herculean kinda barely covers it.
But… I made a promise and I kept my word.
He is stuck in perdition on crutches with his gnarly overcooked chicken wing of a nagging girlfriend.
Cellie’s curse worked. Now I have Sophia telling me “He ain’t worth it.”
He ain’t.
It’s not like he is the only one who owes me money. Another girl I supported while she was pregnant and when her baby was little unfriended me over 6000 dollars. I won a court case from my old work and they owed me 5 grand that never got paid back. Moonface bolted over 3 bills. Baby Hooker over 500. I feel like I am paying these people to leave my life and I am not sad about it.
The way I am looking at it now, if I can sell 10 000 books, that money comes back threefold and in very satisfying way. I want that.
It’s just money. It’s just stuff. I can always make more.
I am sitting in my cute little room that I put together with a shit ton of hard work, my most precious things, a lot of creativity and about $300.
I have the love and support of the aforementioned twin flame.
I also have writer’s block and I am finally ready to admit, it has a lot to do with work.
I can hear the universe yelling at me, saying very loudly, do what makes you happy and the money will come. But I keep getting in the car and going to work. My muse visits in the mornings and I am sleeping until noon. I can’t sleep because I am not drinking, so there is no morning for me. Sleep in, rinse, repeat.
I did have delicious dreams about my Wolf though.
As sexual as we are, and we really are; I love how magical he makes the mundane. In my dream we were in a small house sorting through boxes deciding what to keep and what we didn’t need. Cleaning and talking about the future. Smiling, laughing, taking little breaks to touch each other. A rote task made into something lovely just because we were together.
I remember him driving me to New Jersey for Greek food in the rain and the subsequent hunt for a pharmacy and tampons in the dark. Holding hands and belly laughing in a CVS, and that is all I want.
I am a firm believer in a few philosophies.
Happiness is more important than things.
Money is a tool to use, not a god to pray to. Contentment is in the little things anyways. And money can’t buy moments, plane tickets, yes. But it’s up to us to look for joy and savor every minute of it so the universe sees fit to give us more.
I’ll see it when I believe it. And I do, even more so now writing these words.
Also, the universe’s timing is perfect even if doesn’t suit your ego, or technically my vagina right now.
I want my man right now I said.
Make as much as you can out of this life, I think there are others, but they are not guaranteed. Here and now is.
This morning I woke up with enough money to book the Airbnb I want, it has a pool, and its in the most perfect location. Then as I was contemplating it, my phone binged. I forgot to pay my bill last month and this month is due now. If I book the Airbnb, I go back to zero.
Maybe that is what I need. Pressure and a dangling carrot.
Force my own hand.
Diamonds don’t just appear, and I am kinda tired of being coal.
