No Time to Kill for Love

Happy Monday, everyone! I hope you all had a good weekend. I did. It was nice and relaxing and full of procrastination that I will likely hate myself for today. I did get a lot of writing done. And I got a lot of research on where to sell my writing done, which is really what I want to do. I’ve been looking into travel writing, not that I will be traveling in the next little bit, but there are plenty of places around town that people who travel here might want to see, so I’ve decided I’m going to start doing little fun snippets on some of the local things that are cool like the breweries and the coffee shops and some of the cool brunch spots for people who are here on the weekends and then I’ll try to find some local tourist mags or websites to sell them to. I sent an email to the mercury and tried to pitch an advice column to them. Except, not your run of the mill advice column, more like an advice column where the advice was not guaranteed at all to be good. Fun, yes, but good, not so much. So I’m waiting to hear back from them. I’m just trying to work every possible writing angle I can right now even if that means logging on to various websites that only pay a fraction of a cent per word for product descriptions and the like. At this point, I’m not that picky. I just need to find a few more things to bring in some cash so I can continue to do what I’ve been doing the last couple months, otherwise, I’m going to have to break down and go to some idiot business owner who thinks he has the best ideas in the world and apply for a job that I hate helping a business that I don’t care about until the owner realizes my ideas are good and decides that he’s too intimidated to have someone with great ideas around when he’d rather have someone who looks at him like he just invented cookies and milk instead of admitting that someone has equally good ideas and business sense as him. It’s all just to deja vu -ish for me to continue to do over and over again. I continue to be optimistic about my professional success.

My personal success is a different story. This whole relationship status thing is really starting to grind my gears. So I’ve been talking to this tax man for about 6 weeks now. He’s the one who doesn’t let a day go by without sending me a “good morning, beautiful” text every day before 8am, even on the weekends. It’s sweet. It really is. And midday or early afternoon, I get another that says, “how is your day?” And it’s nice. It’s really nice that someone is thinking about me. So he tells me that he’s booked a hotel for this upcoming weekend to come to Knoxville to see me. You would think that I would be excited, maybe a little, right? But what I am, is, trying to figure out a nice way to tell him not to come without hurting his feelings. He’s nice. Don’t get me wrong, he’s really nice and he’s sweet, and he’s built like a skinny Greek god and judging from the naked pics I’ve gotten, he’s got a stripper pole in his pants and you all know how much I like to dance, but there’s just something about the whole situation that makes me think, nope.

It took me a minute to figure it out and then I did. This guy has texted me every single day for the last month and a half, and, although that’s really nice, he knows nothing about me. He doesn’t know that my favorite color is purple. He doesn’t know that in order for me to write, I have to be wearing this pair of blue scrub pants with paint stains on them and I put them on every day before I sit in this chair to do my thing. And if they are dirty, I put them on anyway, despite the smell. He doesn’t know that I could eat pizza everyday. He has no idea that if I were stranded on a desert island and could only take three things that two of them would be my kindle and a solar charger. The third thing keeps changing so he doesn’t have to know that. He doesn’t know that I prefer to never ever live with anyone that I didn’t give birth to. He doesn’t know that I get irritable when I’m in a relationship that isn’t fun to me. He doesn’t know that eat eggs every day for breakfast. He doesn’t know that I love avocado. He doesn’t have any idea the number of pictures I take in a day. He doesn’t know that if it’s not raining, I have my sunroof open regardless of the temperature. He doesn’t know that I prefer to be barefoot over having shoes on. He doesn’t know where my favorite spot is at the river where I sometimes go to sit and think or nap. He doesn’t even know my last name. I could go on and on, but my point is, he’s had ample time and opportunity to find out about me and he hasn’t made the effort. He hasn’t called me on the phone. We’ve literally never had a phone conversation. We’ve had a few Marco Polo video chat conversations, because I love Marco Polo and I initiated that. I also know a whole lot about him because I pry and I ask questions, or at least, I did until I realized that maybe all of this is just his way to try and get some. Or maybe he is really awkward and backwards when it comes to dating. I’m not sure which, but I’m just not feeling like finding out and I feel kind of bad about it, but then again, I don’t really, because I kind of feel like maybe I should let him down gently before he spends his hard earned tax man money on a hotel room that he’s not even going to get to fuck in. I guess I just need to find the tact to tell him, “hey, this weekend isn’t going to work for me, nor is any other weekend in this lifetime, because although you’ve put forth a minimum amount of effort with your daily good morning texts, it’s just not enough that you only know my first name.” Plus, for some reason, I have no desire to have any kind of sex with him, and oddly enough, with anyone at this present moment. I think I’m too busy and too focused on what I need to do in order to be my version of successful. I just don’t have any time to kill right now. Go figure.