Full disclosure, I came on the blog just now to rant about love, and saw my previous post. HHAAHAHA! Hilarious. A drunken rant about love that I had forgotten about because I had been drunk when I wrote it.
Well suffice to say, I'm not as baby obsessed. I'm sure it'll come back, but hopefully it'll wait a few years. I don't want to mate. I don't mind having regular sex. And I currently am, which may be the reason I'm feeling a little less obsessed with love.
I don't feel as occupied by it. Though, as always, I still feel like I could be even less occupied by it. But less will suffice.
Part of it is that I have a lot of other stuff on mind mind anyways.
I'm about to move, I'm about to do what is, for me, a fairly serious solo camping trip. I'm trying to sell a house and get rid of 50 years of accumulation of someone else's treasures. My eye won't stop twitching and I've become somewhat obsessed with exercising, but I'm still getting enough sleep.
I've actually been spending quite a bit of time alone, despite the feeling of being busy. Exercise is a lone activity for the most part. Even when I'm at the gym, it often feels like we're all in our own lone little worlds. I like it. It's like being at the library in a sense.
But love, love is stressful. Love is a hassle. Love is about convenience. Romance doesn't exist. Bah to love. And luckily love isn't bothering me too much at the moment.
No comments:
Post a Comment