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Archive for the tag “insomnia”

Addictive Tendencies

I’m watching myself as of late, because I’ve been on some addictive type stuff.

I love shopping, but I think I have a problem. I’ve been spending my lunch breaks buying stuff.

Last week, I bought two shirts one day, and a pair of shoes the next.

Today, I bought a clutch (but I’ve wanted this kind of clutch since last year and they never had the right color or style).

Like I’m not spending crazy amounts of money, but after a while it adds up.

My latest addiction is that stupid online dating site I signed up for almost two weeks ago.

I’m checking the stupid thing all day, even on my phone, draining the battery.

I must be bored. Most of these men, I’m not even interested in, but I’m digging the high I get from opening my mailbox everyday to like 20 guys.

Some of them, I’m actually sending messages to, and some of them seem kind of nice, or interesting.

But something tells me, I’m not really going to find that super dooper love connection.

Before, I was being very strict about men who are long distance since we know I’m the queen of that, and now, if the man seems like he’s got some sense, I’m willing to have a conversation.

What’s most interesting is, as some conversations are fading out and interest is waning, there’s always a new guy to start a new conversation with.

There they are. All laid out. Every time I log on, I hear Arsenio Hall’s voice in “Coming to America” where he tells Akeem, “apparently these are the best women Queens has to offer. Pick one and let’s go home.”

Pick One and Let’s Go Home

I keep hearing, “Pick one and let’s go home.”

I put myself out there and reached out to some guys who I thought were good-looking and had something decent to say in their profile, but I’ve not gotten any responses from those guys. I guess I’m not their type.

Side note: This dating site allows you to rate your level of attractiveness. Some of these fools really have the nerve to say stunningly good-looking.

I mean seriously, “stunningly”? Like damn, you got big ones.

I just put good-looking. I refused to put average and I certainly wasn’t nuts enough to put stunningly good-looking. I’ll let you decide that for yourself potential suitors.

Just wow. These dudes are a trip.

But that’s ok.

I’m restless, I cannot sleep, STILL! If any of you have any good suggestions for insomnia that do not include, NyQuil, child Benadryl, hot baths, orgasm, or sleepy tea (not saying these are bad, these are just the ones that have already been suggested), please let me know.

I had a huge cupcake today, and it was delicious. I was so tired after work yesterday, I did not work out and I had an hour nap. Just an hour. I figured I’d be able to sleep. No.

Still up til nearly two. I haven’t had a solid night’s sleep since last week.

One of my favorite addictions, Kyle Barker has been texting me. And he’s quite a temptation. Usually I stave off that temptation by not shaving and keeping my house a mess, so I’ll be too embarrassed to host him.

One of my good male friends, tells me if I give in now, what will my 11 months of celibacy be good for? What will it have meant?

But at this point, I’m wondering why am I still waiting? I mean, I know why. I want to be in a relationship that’s going somewhere. Wherever somewhere is…

So I’m back to square one.

Food, shopping, self-love, sleepless nights and online flirting.

This sounds horribly sad.

Horribly sad.

I am a real life Cathy comic.

Speaking of rockin single television women who I root for and love, if yall aren’t watching the Mindy Project, yall are friggin slippin. I LOVVVVE this chick.

Trouble Sleeping

I can’t sleep. I’m writing this post all riled up. I guess my bout of insomnia is a mixture of things. I was off today for Columbus Day and I basically stayed in my house since Friday evening.

I’ve managed to at least feel like I did something constructive, by getting some car repairs done and applying to two more awesome jobs. One of the jobs is with an organization I’ve applied to about four times now. Geez.

The anxiety of job-hunting is maddening. As the days go by, I find myself getting more and more antsy. More and more dissatisfied. My faith is wavering. I’m trying to pray more. My heart beats faster as I try to sleep. I’ve been sleeping with low classical music in the background to calm my psyche.

Something has to give soon.

Anyway, with so much time to myself, it’s horribly easy to get into a funk, ask yourself questions about what you’ve done wrong in life and watch “Dirty Dancing” then almost killing an entire regular can of Pringles over the course of two days.

I’ve been thinking over a bunch of things.

My career/path.

My romantic life. Ironically, one dude who I turned down last year has popped up to ask me how I’m doing. Another sweetheart of a guy, but I just didn’t feel that chemistry on my end.

Was it a reminder that I’m shallow and ridiculous and destined to be alone I am because I keep relying on that feeling I get (the same feeling I knew I felt but still wound up hurt in the end).

It made me revisit and text the guy who makes my blood boil, yet toes curl. He was still up for a little fun and the exchange of dirty messages.

But as I edge closer to a year of no physical lovin, I want it to be right. I don’t want it to suck. I don’t want to get emotionally reckless with the handsome, intelligent, toe-curler, who sends me mixed messages.

One of my good male friends sat in my living room last night, determined to help me at least get out of the house and see a movie and told me, my expectations for awesome sex after my hiatus is a horrible idea.

He’s probably right. I’m also glad that he brought a bottle of champagne. His champagne and conversation did help make me feel better. I returned the favor by making ribs and chicken.

I also thought to myself, I have a couple of close male friends I love dearly and I’m super comfortable with them. I can say anything and they are accepting, they see me as a lady still (I can be raunchy) and they always laugh at my jokes. They get me.

If only the men I’m attracted to were like my close male friends.

Back to the other stuff.

I feel like everything is changing around me so quickly, but the optimism I had as a young 20-something who can take on the world, has certainly subsided.

You couldn’t tell me no. I saved rejection letters from publications I dreamed of writing for.

Because I knew I’d show them all.

And there are some accomplishments I’ve had that totally certified and validated me and I’m so thankful for them. What a ride.

But what’s in me right now? What is inside of me?

I keep trying to push, but it’s been tough. I feel worn out. I don’t know if it is me getting older and jaded, or if that thing in me that motivated people to say yes, is gone.

How did I get people to say yes?

Do I have to start lowering my salary requirements?

I shouldn’t have to. I’ve worked so hard for years. I deserve what I’m asking for.

Can I find a balance between money, career, the business I want to nurture and grow?

Who are my allies? How do I build new ones?

Who and what inspires me? How do I ramp up the inspiration?

I was a little girl who told people I’d be president and I’d be in the White House one day. I did it as a reporter while an intern in college and then later on with another news organization.

I’ve got to find that person again. No is never an option. I say I’m going to do something I will.

In my high school yearbook, my footnote for my senior photo said, the world was going to read my words. They have.

Something has to happen. While I’m disillusioned with mainstream journalism, I have to believe my job that blends writing and health advocacy is just around the corner and that one of these several jobs in that area will choose me. It has to happen.

That’s been the pattern of my life.

About six years ago, shortly after wanting to step into four lanes of traffic because I wanted a few days in the hospital and not wanting to go into a job I hated, an opportunity presented itself. I didn’t want to die, I just wanted a break. I watched the cars whiz by, and I was so tempted to just step in. Folks think I’m so strong.

And when I tell that story, they are shocked.

But that’s just it. We all get tired. We all feel like our problems, our inadequacies, they are all too much. And even though fighting through it is the “right” thing to do, and what we’re supposed to do, sometimes the effort it takes to just stand, keep our eyes open and even ball our fists takes everything you have.

Sometimes the most absurd thing like stepping into the street and getting a few days in the hospital sounds like peace.

We all think these thoughts in some kind of way. It may not be as far as self harm or suicide. It may be staying in bed with the covers over your head and not going to work. It could be ignoring your crying kids, or eating fast food in your car alone. Sometimes, we just get tired. We don’t want to be responsible, we want to be selfish, because fighting through is too tiring. It’s too tiring.

When another job seemed to be too much but paid too little, and I paid for my gas with couch change and I went to sleep hungry because I had to use my entire paycheck for rent, an opportunity presented itself.

I’m not in as dire a situation as the ones I’ve mentioned, and I certainly don’t want things to get that bad, but each and every time, just before I was at the very end of my mental and emotional rope, a window was cracked and I got out to the other side.

I’m hoping that the way I feel right now. This weariness, this tiredness means I’m toward the end of the battle and that the change I’m looking for, the bright side I’m aching for is just within reach.

Birds Of A Feather: Me and My Crew Of Non-Married Folk

I don’t know if it’s the economy, I don’t know if it’s because of what Essence Magazine says, or Tyler Perry movies say and show about black love and the lack thereof, or sociologists saying we just won’t get married, or we’ll get married a lot later than our white counterparts.

Well, let’s look at the stats. If you look at Facebook, a large majority of my white friends have taken a trip down the aisle and have a brood of kids.

Then, there are the black folk.

They had kids, but eh, a hand full of em are married, and may not necessarily be even married to the person they had kids with. I’m not saying white folks have it together and make the best marriages, because people of every color have issues, but I worry about my people. For real.

All of these single mothers, looking haggard and tired with no sign of help or support just irks me. It enrages me.

All of these single, black men who seemingly don’t want to settle down, they confuse me too. Especially the ones over 35. I’m baffled.

No scratch that.

I’m attracted to these men. This is my fatal flaw. Their timing just never dovetails with mine.

Maybe I have my own fears in terms of settling down too. Long distance queen, and ending a potential relationship with someone who was really into me. Ugh.

I got to change the prescription on my love glasses.

I guess I’m going on this tangent because I’m a product of a two-parent home and I love the love my parents share. That’s right, 40 years of marriage. They are gangsta. I’ve also been watching a lot of old Cosby episodes, and there’s a reason people of all races swoon the way Cliff and Clair even look at one another. There’s love there, there’s an acceptance of each other, and well, in most of the episodes, you can tell they get it in, and they still enjoy doing it. LOL.

Sometimes, I do wonder how women with kids manage to beat me to the altar, but you know what? They probably think my life is awesome and filled with freedom and opportunity, so I’m going to tend to my own grass and keep it moving. One of my girls reminded me, that the men they are marrying, I wouldn’t want. And that’s probably true.

Besides, I’ve come to the conclusion, that I’d really rather be alone than in a jacked-up marriage or in a relationship with someone who I’m settling for because they look good on paper or they adore me and I don’t feel the same. That message has been pounding me over the head for the last two years for sure.

But as I look around, I’m not alone. I have educated, awesome friends, male and female, who happen to be black and happen to be single. Some of them are in long-term relationships, some in those long-term relationships really love their partners. They may even be living together for substantial amounts of time where it seems like marriage is the next logical step. But they are being super cautious about it.

Not sure what the apprehension is for those folks. Watching these people together, it seems like they have it down. Even if they get on each other’s nerves, they still manage to keep on swimming.

Some of the live-in couples just say the timing isn’t right, or they are saving money. Fair enough.

Last year, one of my good friends got married, but other than that, all of my people are 30 and older and single as the day is long.

I keep wondering if all of a sudden, it’s going to catch like chicken pox in a day care and I’ll look up next year begging God to slow down the wedding frenzy so I can afford to attend them all, look good and give the folks a decent gift.

I’m not going to lie. Sometimes when I go to bed at night, I have to put on the radio real low to help me sleep. I feel the loneliness, my heart starts to speed up a bit. I breathe, pray, eventually calm down and drift off to sleep. But those pre-sleep moments, I do wonder if I’ll be alone for the next ten years or so.

I wonder if I’ll be like the successful, beautiful and highly-interesting single 40 and older women who for the life of me I can’t understand why no man has snatched them up.

Like is it that bad? Is it them?

Is that my future? Geez. I’m trying to work out and eat right to look awesome and age well, and I got to go on vacation alone or with my other single home girls?

I want the real thing, but do I really have to wait until my 40s now?

(I’m a jerk. I just let go of a great guy and I’m back to complaining about being single. Yes. I know.)

It may be that way. With this suckie economy, meeting a man living at home with his parents is not uncommon, meeting a man who hates his job– totally possible. Folks are trying to get it together, but they just can’t and it really isn’t their fault.

And I want a stable, financially secure, self-assured man. I just do.

So for now, I don’t feel as much pressure because I hardly have any friends in my close circle that are actually married either.

I’m sure it will get worse when my close, close homies start tying the knot. I want all my people to be happy, but I won’t front, the walls may start to close in, and it may get harder to sleep in my bed alone.  Not sure if my alarm clock radio can only do so much to distract me from my beating heart.


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