Depth of a Car Salesman

As far as I could remember, car salesmen have always had this negative stigma in society. Maybe I learned it from TV originally but I also remember being a kid and hearing grownups badmouth car salesmen. They can’t be trusted, they scam people, low-lives that couldn’t get a real job. Salespeople in general actually. I hope I don’t offend anyone with this post but I’ve probably offended many in my other posts. This is about a particular guy I’ve encountered a couple times.

I think I’ve matched with BJ a handful of times. Sometimes I would let it expire. Other times I continue the convo and just leave him hanging. Sometime in 2018, I apparently gave him my number and we texted for a bit and I left him on read. Anytime I allowed a conversation, he would open with “I just moved here”. It triggered me. It made me want to call him out for it but it seemed like such a childish thing to do. But also, wasn’t that childish of him? He’s been here for 5 years, I would hardly call that recent. He wouldn’t say where he was originally from. He’d mention work a lot and wasn’t great with conversations. Making it hard to connect. Making it less interesting for me to want to meet. Which is why I abandoned those previous attempts.

I decided to give him a real chance recently. After the drink meet with the lawyer, I felt like I needed practice talking again and knowing when to shut up. I was certain I wouldn’t like this car salesman and it sounds bad knowing I would use him as practice but I figured it knocks out a reoccurring match and gets me out there again. Why did I keep matching with him? He was handsome. Most of his pictures sucked and was a bit cringeworthy. Patrick Bateman-esque but not really. He suggested to meet and I told him day and time I was available. Let me tell ya about the meet… because what a meet.

I told him I was coming casual. Especially after meeting the lawyer, I was a bit overdressed. So I decided I would show up… relaxed. Ya know, adidas tracksuit. He said he would change. He did not. He arrived early and lived near the place he suggested. He had the time to change, but didn’t. He showed up in a suit. He looked much better than his photos. I was annoyed. There I was sitting looking all atheleisurely and he looking all professional. It was like a bad sex deal. I instantly didn’t know what to say. He was talking about something I can’t remember and when it came to my turn… I had nothing to say. I was so turned off by what he was saying. I felt so anxious to leave and it was just so early in the meet. I kept nodding and saying “I got nothing”. It was such a challenge for me to want to talk. I didn’t want to tell him anything about me. To kill time, I just kept asking more about him. He kept mentioning work. At some point I asked him if he was even happy because he kept complaining. He couldn’t really look at me after I asked. I felt like maybe I was too brash. He had just told me he was in Florida for 15 years doing this car sales gig and came to houston to continue, then I ask him if he’s even happy doing what he does. Maybe it wasn’t my place to ask that too soon. He answered but I don’t remember lol.

It got to the point where maybe he realized I was done. He would poke fun of me and I would poke fun of him. He mentioned he makes “a lot of money” and how he has to “block a lot of women”. I don’t think he went to college. He painted himself as super successful and planning to retire in 7 years. Had a side hustle with property management on Sundays, his days off. Seemed to resent his parents for moving too often during his childhood. Wasn’t long enough to make life long friendships or a place to call home. We ended up playing with each other’s hands after all the ball busting and he wanted my number. As if he didn’t have it already. Maybe he deleted me. We kissed, he messed up my hair, and we kissed again. It was awkward. I knew I didn’t like him but it felt good to have that type of male interaction again. it made me feel good about myself. Being me, I had to overthink things and while it was nice feeling flirty and feeling wanted I kept thinking “great, car guy is interested and I couldn’t get lawyer interested”.

We texted more often after first meet. In fact, he would text me every morning and pepper the same texts throughout the day. The way he would text was so immature. I failed to mention, this guy is 40. He would text like a 20-something college guy. Confusing “to” and “too” every time. I am so certain he doesn’t know the difference. He starts many statements with “and”. For example; “and good morning”. It began to annoy me. Everyday since the first meet, he would just complain about work. I get it, sales are bad during this time but I… don’t care? He’d work 10 hours days, 6 days a week. He would suggest to meet at odd times. It was never disrespectful because I was also understanding of his work schedule but it would be inconvenient for me. He began to grow upset. I was saying no to a second meet every time. 3 times to be exact.

I made an effort Friday night to actually meet. Let me tell you, that’s me putting in real effort. It rained all day. It was miserable weather. I had to rush home and get ready. I arrived to his place late and he wasn’t too upset but gave me a little bit of shit for it. Playful shit. We hang out and I was turned off by his shirt. It had a distinct mildew smell. I let it go but it was like another person in the room, that smell. I didn’t judge extra hard because I can imagine him throwing in a load in the washer and not remembering or not having the time to throw it in dryer in time. Even now, I keep thinking, why couldn’t he put on a different shirt? Surely he had another shirt. He had to have acknowledged that smell. We didn’t have any conversation that night. Just watching Netflix. It was terrible but do I look forward seeing him again? Not so much. While I was in his house, I observed everything and he had such a bland life. He would spend so much of his time at work, he barely had a life outside work. It was hard to figure out who I was hanging out with. He isn’t boyfriend material. He never asked me anything about myself. He wasn’t interested but he also wasn’t interesting.

I appreciated the kisses and fondling but I think it was confusing for me because I miss intimacy with someone. Not so much that I actually like or want him. We ended the night and he suggested I stay. I insisted on leaving. I’m still doing the no sex thing. I just can’t imagine, besides sex, how he would be useful to me or to any woman. He shows no emotion, passion, or interests. He has nothing to contribute. He is always focused on money and work. When does he get to enjoy life? I can’t and not willing to change up my schedule for him. It’s not worth it.

I want a good reason to feel bad for him, but if you met him, his personality makes it hard to even like him. He has a jerk quality. Part of me understands it was his childhood experiences that molded him this way. He was still holding onto that resentment – blaming his parents. Connection not strong enough for me to want to help or peel back those layers. I’m sure he has decent 20-something yr old prospects to recycle the “I make a lot of money” stuff on. We know it’s a front for something totally unremarkable underneath. I wish some men could just be genuine. Let some walls down and be more likable. Especially if they’re in the car dealership industry. You’re already starting off negative? Can’t you be a better person outside work?!

I’m Difficult

I find reasons why I wasn’t able to continue certain relationships with people. I always look for reasons. It’s rare I let a relationship go through an incident to push to towards ending. I look back and see a lot of the guys that “weren’t good enough for me” in serious relationships now, it sometimes upsets me. Not terribly – I’m not regretful or angry. I eventually feel happy for them. I don’t necessarily feel like I am missing out but I get upset at how it comes so easy for some people. The flaws I saw in someone, isn’t a flaw for that new person, or maybe it is and they made it work. I’m sorry, mushy hands aren’t a deal-breaker for you? Although I look for reasons to end the relationship I also rely on guys to make me feel good about myself.

I went on a drink meet a couple days ago. One I didn’t think I would ever agree to go on because it was the snapchat lawyer guy. It had been a while since I last interacted with him, so I basically forgot everything about him. I agreed because I needed a reason to go out again. Get my feet wet with meeting new people and I suppose learning how to communicate in a covid world. When I think back on it, it makes me sick how I yapped the entire night about myself. I didn’t ask him anything important or anything to make him feel like I was interested in him as a person. I had been on a few drink dates in the past where the guy would go on and on about himself and not even ask me ONE thing. I was that guy that night. It hurts me just thinking about it. Even when this snapchat lawyer started with telling me he was one of four siblings and the youngest – I fucken stole the convo and talked more about dumb shit. He had moments talking about movies and comedy so I think that helps. I can’t remember if he said anything else. Also, desperately trying to remember a movie he mentioned I would like and I’m racking my brain. Keywords: Netflix, world war II, JFK. It’s fucking killing me. I basically walked away not knowing a thing about him. I seriously feel sick about how I interacted with him that night. Like, wtf did I think I was doing?! Some interview for a low budget podcast?! What irritates me is looking back on drink meets from the past, I was loaded with top notch questions. Just gems, shit you don’t normally ask on a first meet but I asked it. I loved getting responses to crazy questions. I am so embarrassed about how much I talked about myself because I don’t particularly have anything in my life worth repeating. I am sure his life is far more interesting. He’s a lawyer, that itself is more interesting than any dumb shit I have going on.

Okay, I got that out my system. I don’t want to see certain things about people. I don’t want to look for reasons to end something. Is it too late for me to change? But, do we remember when I decided to be NOT difficult and tried to settle for the Serbian and that backfired on me? I needed this year to really reflect and although I didn’t want to meet anyone, somewhat glad I did, it was a good test and it helped me determine I’m still not ready to involve any type of guy in my life. I was so offended when he didn’t even suggest another meet. I didn’t necessarily feel sparks and I was a complete jerk… But how dare he not even try to ask for another meet? But see, why do I care so much? Why does it offend me if I’m not interested?! My point is, I don’t want to be difficult. Not. Ready. For. Guys.

God, but looking back on that drink meet… He was a champ. Listening to my garbage, he was so incredibly nice, very handsome, great hair, good opinions on comedy, movies, and people. Genuinely a nice guy – not the type of “nice guy” that has to state it in a profile or declare it in real life. Not sure why he’s still on the market. I think he’s gold. Hey, but maybe he’s difficult too.

Hindsight is “20/20”

What a shitty year. I personally don’t know anyone that got to really accomplish anything. Even friends or family celebrating marriage and births couldn’t do it the way they originally intended. All significant moments rushed and contact-conscious – making experiences less emotional and meaningful. All my interactions lately have been work related. My typical meetings still scheduled in-person but I can’t deliver my impressive handshake that makes men fall on their knees and beg for me to let go. I GET THINGS DONE is what I’m trying to say! Without my handshakes, I feel inadequate and awkward when a meeting ends. Besides that, 2020 has definitely been a year of reflection. I feel like I can say that for most people. Most people with a brain. Sorry stupid brainless/braindead space-wasters. That wasn’t really targeted for anyone so if you’re offended… well. MY POINT IS: I turned 30 this year. I have not tried to end my life – not even once! Life is just the same; melancholy is a shadow that follows me. Oh my god, ew. I’m kidding but just typing that as a joke feels gross. Like, go die already, Kimberly.

I haven’t met with anyone this year. Some friends, yes. No men/boyz. I can’t even see myself on a date anytime soon. The idea sounds miserable. Staring at a stranger’s face, pretending to find interest in their work, pretending I am interested in my own work, lying about how many guys I have to shoo away. Maybe that’s just me. Not really kidding. The less I’ve shown my face on social media, the less I receive date threats. Get it? Not death threats but date threats. I’m on one today, baby!! Jokes all day. I’ve gone so far with the idea of shooing away guys that I’ve blocked almost every guy I’ve interacted with on social media and even their phone numbers. Usually the guys I had negative experiences with and some I just want to pretend never existed. There is a weird pattern of exboyfriends or guys that I trashed, already married or in serious relationships, contacting me about wanting to see me again. Blocked.

I had 2 decent prospects that didn’t escalate to anything. One guy lives in Midland and the distance made me uninterested. His lifestyle intimidates me – I know I’m not his type. He should be repulsed by me, he doesn’t seem to be, which I can’t help but categorize as a flaw. He is interested in me – terrible. Why? He is so fit. His life revolves around fitness and healthy shit and me? Well my life revolves around food and unhealthy shit. He could be only interested in very short-term involvement but I’m not in the mood for that nonsense. It’s not worth it to me. I’m 30 now; I’m better than that. Until I’m 35 and definitely can’t have kids then I’m not better than that and I’m all about that. Lookit me, disinterested in a guy because he’s just too fucking healthy. The other guy, sporty – or used to be, seems normal except for the fact he refuses to elevate the form of communication to real text messaging. It’s straight up only Snapchat – which I have not been very active on. He’s 35, a lawyer/liar and on Snapchat and refuses to share contact info… So why waste my time meeting him? He has something to hide and I don’t care enough to find out. Other than that, he’s actually a pretty good candidate. I can’t bring myself to allow that type of behavior. Zero tolerance for that level of communication. What does that say about how he thinks of me? Boy, bye.

My general mood lately is just “fine”. Zero drama in my life right now. I’m finding it hard to stay connected with friends simply because I’m not in the mood. I feel unconnected with them even if I tried my hardest to connect. I know a lot of them are lost like me. Even those with established careers and reaching milestones. Why do they do it? They ask themselves that too. I’m lost… but not lost enough to feel like I have to climb narrow, steep, cliffs. I have a number of friends doing this and they all seem to be the same type of person. Not only my personal friends, I understand it’s one of those things to do right now. It’s almost as if they put themselves at risk to feel something new and exciting. But mostly an excuse to post something – anything on social media for the likes. Likes on social media never made me feel particularly accomplished but I think some people need that very temporary acknowledgment even if it’s forgettable. For example, I asked a friend about a mutual friend of ours – why this person wasn’t asking his girlfriend of many years to marry him. Their response: Kim, you liked the engagement pic. There you have it. Liked but not remembered. Anyway, putting myself in dangerous situations… Not my idea of fun lol. To a certain extent. I can appreciate excitement but imagining putting myself in that position, actually climbing and finishing an infamous, deathly hike… would personally make me feel maybe more lost. Why would I be doing it? Because other people are doing it?? Oh my god, it’s almost like the saying “if Karen jumped off a bridge,…” It just seems like constant chase over cliffs, hills, and mountains looking for some sort of meaning – like a goddamn rainbow or a clear blue sky and life suddenly makes sense?? It’s a few degrees away from being one of those skyrise rooftop hanging freaks. Was that mean? What are they called… adrenaline chasing FREAKS. IDK. I suppose everyone has their way of thinking and method of coping with 2020. For me, it has always been writing and pointing out flaws in other people. Lol?

Although I am bored – I’m not bored or lost enough to want to hike and hang off a cliff looking down to a very possible demise. I think too much about the possible consequences like if I die from a hike… god, how embarrassing for my life and family. That’s exactly what I was thinking about when I was robbed at gunpoint a few years ago. While on the floor, head laying flat along the street, waiting to get shot in the back, the only thoughts running through my mind is “maybe holding my breath would make it hurt less” and “this is so embarrassing, my poor family”. I wonder if anyone understands that. I know the holding breath thing sounds weird c’mon. Seconds of silence that feels like eternity, waiting to get shot, you’re gonna think of semi-dumb stuff to help ease the idea of dying. I also thought about not wanting to suffer or survive from getting shot. I didn’t want to live a life restricted and I definitely didn’t want to bleed for 45min on the street, waiting for help, and dying on my way to the hospital. I wanted it to be quick and done. I don’t think I asked my friend what was running through her mind that night. She was pretty hysterical – in a reasonable way. I mean, she thought she was going to die that night. She loves life and has a lot to live for… so she cried. I’m surprised at how calm I was. Not like I was ready to die but if it was supposed to be my last moment in this world… I didn’t want to be crying. How embarrassing. Oh my god, I’m so immature. Can’t even finish a thought without making a joke. I remember thinking if I had regrets. Apparently not. Just kept thinking about my brothers having to identify my body and assuming I was involved in something retarded that got me to this point. My mom whaling like an animal because she is so very dramatic. Like, yeah… she’s crying because I’m dead but more about how tragic it is for her – that this death happened to her.

Other than writing nonsense, I feel like I’m not tapping into my creative side enough. I’m not producing material that reflects me. I have this weird bottled up energy and nowhere to put it. I can’t help but think about Matthew McConaughey. Good segway, I know. He wrote a book recently – a condensed compilation of his diaries from many decades throughout his life. He’s promoting his book hardcore – you can tell by the sudden amount of interviews he’s doing. It’s an awkward time so he’s doing it all from home. You can almost see what days he decided to do certain interviews by the clothes and the location. I’m not a creep at all. My point is… he seems tied to his computer lately looking for instant gratification from the release of his book. As someone who pretends to be a decent writer, I can’t imagine the energy it required from MM to get this product out there. To have people love it, hate, judge the work you cherish so much. Could I ever do something like that?

It’s already the end of the year. I got my eyebrows did, lips did, asshole bleached, totally hairless from the mustache down. JK about the asshole. I feel comfortable to list some of the things I plan on doing in the future/hopefully near future. Buccal fat removal. About to go as blonde as possible – to my liking. Not like trampy, sugar baby, blonde. A respectable blonde. Nose job – has to be done in LA I think. Ugh. BBL in Houston. I don’t think I want anything else done. I know everyone and their moms/transitioning dads have had their boobs done but it was never a real goal of mine. I like small boobs. Not that mine are all that small but I like natural boobs. I’m just against foreign objects implanted into the body. It is so silly to me. That’s my opinion, so don’t be offended. It’s one thing to enhance what you have with cosmetic surgery but when plastics are involved – there’s something silly about it. Like please look at the plastic protuberance I just installed in my body. I trailed off. The work I want done sounds drastic but these are items I crossed off and wrote back in my physical to-do list for many years. Insecurities about my nose since middle school, flat ass since end of high school and early college. I am not doing it for attention, I’m doing to rebuild the confidence I once had. I grew up being told I was the better looking sister (still am) but as I got older and grew less concerned with my appearance and wanting attention, it’s hard to bounce back to a decent looking state. To my standards – not for anyone else. Sometimes we need to readjust to get back to where we left off. Yes I’m still talking about my appearance. Do you think Kim Kardashian looks this good by NOT getting work done. Oh, there’s tweaks, baby! Tiny tweaks needed to look and feel good again. That’s all. In a world were people want to stand out and feel different yet end up all doing the same things – I can say I don’t do that. I am one of the few that don’t have a tattoo, no belly or genital piercing, no boob job. The blonde thing is because I’ve kept my hair virgin for many, many years and wanted to try it out once. Then dying brown for that great ashy brown color that is so hard to achieve with naturally black hair. Finally, at some point, lasik. The fear of doing lasik and this post being called “Hindsight is 20/20” and going blind is like the cherry on top.

Going back to the whole “…not doing it for anyone else – only me”, and growing up regarded as the better looking sister. I think that was probably the foundation of my fixation on appearance. As the youngest and gosh darn cutest sibling, any time I met new people at school (including teachers) and parents’ friends – they all had to mention how cute I was. How I would grow up really pretty. That did not work out lol. I’m not a monster – I guess I’m average and maybe that’s my fault. I’ve been ignoring how much my appearance bothers me but why does it bother me? Am I not living up to my own standards or the standards that manifested within me rooting from opinions of other people. I recall the moment my parent’s friend commented on how the mole under my eye is my only flaw. The one mole on my face was a distraction and “bad luck”. My mom made calls and got my middle school ass in a sketchy spa to get it removed. It worked – only 90%. The bitch botched me and left me with about 5-10% of mole left on my face. I eventually got the rest removed but it left me a little botched still. Maybe I am not doing it for myself – perhaps I feel like I have to prove something. Either way, working with what I have hasn’t gotten me very far. I used to think “I will get all this work done and what happens when I am not as cute as I had hoped? Where does that put me on the scale? What is life if I don’t have the looks because I’m sure as hell not smart”. I still think this. At this point in my life, if I don’t do these things, these things WILL be my only regret in life. Not “wish I hiked that XYZ” or “missed out on swimming with sharks” but I think the tweaks are more than necessary if it means I am finally comfortable in my own skin. I know I don’t particularly like what I see when I look in the mirror. Maybe I can love the tweaked me and someone will love tweaked me enough to bankroll me. I need to feel good about myself again. Until these tweaks don’t work anymore… Then I’ll get some tattoos and a boob job and post pics with showing nips on purpose but acting like it was a mistake.

Little Baby Kitten

That is definitely redundant title on 2-3 levels but that’s how I would describe the tiny ball of fur I found at my doorstep Thursday morning. I had seen this kitten the night before, just sitting in my driveway, squinting and looking unwell. When I tried to approach it that night, it hid behind some plants I couldn’t reach. I went into the house, opened a can of food and poured on the concrete. Sounds barbaric but I didn’t want the kitten getting its head stuck in the aluminum can or cutting itself from the can’s rim somehow. I instantly overthink but shit like that happens, okay? I came back out to find the food was gone but I left a tiny bowl of water nearby.

When I saw this same kitten again at the doorstep, it was in a turtle position and sitting in the sunlight. Its getting to that point in Houston where even the morning sun is unbearable by 10am/11am. I was already late-ish to work but decided to take in the kitten; I put it in Lisa’s cat taxi, making it as comfortable as possible with one of my small bath towels, a tiny bowl for food and another for water. Those condiment bowls I bought from Target finally came in handy. The kitten devoured the food and went to sleep. I went to work. I came home midday to check on the kitten, I discovered a mess of water, urine, and poop. Classic pet-mom thing to do, check the poop to see if it was solid. Which it was, so that made me happy. The smell was extra foul so I found that to be odd. I just thought if it was solid, it was good enough. I know this paragraph has taken a turn in an awkward direction – poop talk – but I kept thinking back to when Lisa was a kitten and her poops were solid but not smelly at all. Like a human baby, right? Their first solid poops shouldn’t really smell – or smell extra foul. Okay, back on main subject. Maybe this kitten was more sick than I realized.

By the end of Thursday, I knew I had to figure something out. I examined the kitten really well. I gave it a wet cloth bath and noticed it had scabs all over it’s body. A good 75%. The brownish color transferring off the fur and onto the wet cloths puzzled me. I didn’t know if it was dirt, old urine and feces, or old blood. The kitten was finally clean and I could see its true fur. It didn’t have any fleas, and like mosquitoes – fleas aren’t attracted to “bad blood”. I should fact check that. It crossed my mind that this kitten was so sick, fleas didn’t want to even bother. I examined the fur and it was dull but I was determined to care for this kitten until it could grow a healthy shiny coat again. I noticed early on it couldn’t open its eyes all the way. Clearly in pain. I googled what the scabs could be but the more I googled, I kept finding pictures of sick cats and made me too sad to continue. When it could manage to open it’s eyes just very slightly, I could see greenish blue eyes. I thought once I got it clean enough, it would be able to open its eyes properly but that didn’t happen. I noticed it could not move much at all. Looking at its paws, they were very weak, and almost looked bent. The kitten didn’t have many positions, it either sat in regular cat position or turtle mode. This kitten was in bad shape. I transferred the kitten into a storage basket where I would be able to put a bigger towel and mold it in a comfortable way for it to sleep. Food and water always nearby. It couldn’t move much so I knew it wasn’t going to climb out even if I made the towel overlap around the edges of the storage box. This is a huge storage box btw. I wanted the kitten to eventually move around. It couldn’t take 2 steps without resting. I even observed how it would pee and poop. It would go #1 and #2 and lay back down on it’s own mess! So yes, another change of towels and another cloth bath. That was a challenge I wasn’t sure how to handle. I didn’t want to put in a smaller box of kitty litter – not knowing what the litter would do to it’s cracked/exposed skin. I figure I would change the towel as often as I could. It didn’t seem to pee or poop much unless I was home and somewhat force feeding it. I knew whatever it was dealing with, it was beyond me, I knew I had to ultimately take it to the vet.

By Friday morning, I called a few cat doctor offices – all booked and offices closed to walk-ins but even no office appointments. They were conducting visits from people’s cars. The earliest availability was next Friday. This news did not overwhelm me but I was also in the middle of payroll at work – one of the busiest times of the month for me. I was just feeling drained but I knew my responsibilities. Friday felt like 2 days. I went home midday to check on kitten, changed it’s towel because I smelled urine. Gave it a new towel, new food and water, gave it another wipe down, went to work. Kitten was fine when I came home from work. Giving good loud meows, purred when I held it, and ate a little bit. Very little compared to the day before but I was just glad it was eating at all. Legs and paws still seemed weak, I wanted it to be able to lay down a certain way, so that all of it’s pressure from sitting up wasn’t applied to it’s paws. I held it in my hands for a while and let it sleep. I then put it back in it’s box to relax completely and checked on it 2-3 times before I went to bed. Lisa was not happy about the whole thing. I raised her to be a brat cat. Zero maternal instincts kicked in for Lisa. I think Lisa still thinks she’s a baby. I kept Lisa away and that wasn’t difficult because Lisa didn’t want anything to do with the new kitten.

Saturday morning, I noticed the kitten was still sleeping. Didn’t eat or drink water during the night but clearly breathing. I didn’t want to make it wake up to eat so I let it sleep. I figured kittens like human babies needed as much sleep as possible. 1-2 hours passed and I saw she was in a different sleeping position – a fetal position, still breathing, still sleeping. It finally looked comfortable and I felt relief that it could move around and find a new position. I was feeling hopeful. I laid in bed thinking about what I had to do to make Lisa learn how to care for her new little brother/sister. I got up to check on it – still sleeping, still breathing. I added more food and water to it’s bowls before I left to Target to get it proper kitten food. I was gone 38 minutes.

I was keeping this kitten in the open storage box in my walk-in closet. I don’t want people thinking I had a top on this box, I actually had another towel on top covering the box halfway. The box is clear and standing from my closet door looking in, I saw it wasn’t in it’s normal corner sleeping but it had moved to the other side of the box. I was proud it had moved. I uncovered the box to find it laying the same way Simba was when he ran away and ended up on that desert land. I thought that was so strange. Before I made an attempt to wake it up, I watched it’s body to see if it was sleeping. The second I realized it wasn’t breathing, I made noises. I touched it’s head and it didn’t react. I lightly shook the box and kept asking it to wake up. I stood up and panicked. I had so much guilt for leaving but I couldn’t figure out how things went wrong in 38 minutes. I kept thinking scenarios but it was pointless. I kept thinking about last night and how present it was.

I never thought about taking pictures of it when it was alive. I thought about it once, but considering it’s condition and assuming it was going to get better, I didn’t want photos of it during a time it was ill. I wanted it to get all better and take a nice picture of it. The state it was in was not a memory I wanted to be reminded of. It’s like when someone is sick, the last thing they want is a photo taken, and have that picture to look back on. So I am sad I can’t include a picture of it here for a proper post but I think it’s not right to show pictures of a sick kitten. In my opinion. Hopefully this post was enough to recognize it’s life. May sound crazy but I value all lives. Even if it was a kitten I took in and cared for for 2.5 days, it was a special little life that crossed with mine.

I just did some brief googling and read kittens get sick easily and often. They could be totally active, playing, curious, and normal and 4-6 hours they could get sick and just pass away. Maybe when I noticed it sleeping as long as it did, I should’ve waken it up and forced it to eat. I’ve always been the type to see a person or animal sleeping, to try my hardest, to not wake them up.

Country BUMPkin

I took great offense when Erik didn’t try to salvage whatever we had. I couldn’t figure out why I liked him so much at the time and I was honest when I told him whatever we had wasn’t fun anymore and I wanted to quit. In hindsight, I really wanted him to try harder to keep me so I could turn him down again. I’m a child. I don’t know why I do this. I’m terrible. I’m probably repeating a lot of what I mentioned 2 posts ago (which is in draft mode, I hate the way I worded some things) but I’ve still been feeling bad about what happened. Not so much guilt for what I did, (okay there’s a lot of guilt) but also more of a worthless feeling about myself. I may have resolved it!

If he was actually what he presented himself to be; someone refined, worldly, educated, and financially comfortable – his decision to settle for a country broad with 2 kids from a previous marriage to a ginger hick would make any reasonable person (aka me) feel inadequate. I think that is a fair reaction! Wouldn’t a sensible person settle for a young broad, with low self worth, that has room to be… impressionable, and mold-able be more appealing? Or whats more appealing: staying single, dating around, being a lothario. Am I so physically unattractive that I pushed a guy so far away he rather take on a country yellow bleach blonde lump and 2 burdens plus a hick ex-husband?!

So, yesterday I had a small procedure that has tied me to my bed for the next 2-3 days. Bored out of my mind, I decided to look at Erik’s Facebook. I look at his feature photo of him and her plus her kids. The photo was something you’d find as a meme for Florida, Nascar, Ultraconservatism, racism, and what happens when you don’t wear a condom. The lump was carrying a bump!

This is actually good news for me. Here’s why. I feel like Erik had to commit to something he wasn’t totally prepared for but this was one of his goals in life. To be a dad – so he’s pursuing that. I recall a conversation we had about children. I made the statement that I couldn’t focus at work because my boss brought in her kids and their cousins. 6-8 kids ages 3-10 were running around and screaming at the top of their lungs and I couldn’t even think. His response made me seem cold – as if I don’t like or want kids. He expressed he wanted many. Not only did this disgust me, it bothered me because it is so irresponsible to want “many kids” and not feel like you’re compromising the quality of parenting with each kid. Does that make sense? Especially without the financial backing to provide the best life. He mentioned his dad worked a lot, he traveled and didn’t spend enough time at home, and his mom basically sacrificed her life to be a stay-at-home mother. Why is that a life a reasonable thinking person wants to recreate? I find it so selfish! Yes, in an ideal world, I would have at least 2 kids, no trust issues with the father of those kids, and I wouldn’t being writing this dumbass post for this lousy attempt for a blog or whatever. That’s not how life works. While being a parent/mother is fulfilling, I can’t help but think about the missed opportunities these moms missed out on.

The point is: I feel some relief. Finally. Some justification for the actions that transpired during and after the ending of this nonsense I created. But I feel like dating is so scary. You really don’t know who the other person is no matter how much time you spend with that person – it could be a facade. Erik presented himself as someone who had his shit together. I think I wanted to like him so much because he physically looked the part for me, he wasn’t a dunce, seemed lost even at his age – I wanted to help him with that, and I really enjoyed his sense of humor. His humor showcased his outlook on life, his experiences, and his knowledge. He had some shortcomings but was a champ about it and he knew how to adjust accordingly! Erik lacked honesty, self awareness, and had an uncalibrated moral compass. I don’t usually feel this way often… Encountering someone with the right tools to succeed and do better, not use those tools to create something great but instead lead and recreate a life that only perpetuates the idea that the man can work and travel and the woman stays home to raise his kids and have food ready when he comes home. If or when he comes home.

No offense to anyone that has this lifestyle. I’m not actually super progressive but I believe in giving the woman a choice and chance to live her life too. Sometimes that means having children later in life… or not at all and adopting. Also, I could never raise a child in the world we live in now. I could not relive the struggle of being one of many kids – the lack of attention, food, and basic care. It’s not how I personally want to raise my kids. It may not seem like I want kids but I’ve conditioned myself to not expect… expecting. I refuse to want kids and reach a point in my life where it would be impossible or selfishly pressured to have kids.

At work, this guy I was in a meeting with asked me a lot of personal questions. I usually don’t mind because he was one of those types that didn’t grow up in a very diverse area. So any chance he has with a minority, it’s his time to ask questions. He asked a lot of the typical White guy questions but then the conversation trailed into family, kids, blending cultures and religion. Heavy stuff for a meeting about grease/protein removal at a commercial property. I mentioned I didn’t want kids. Mind you, this was days before my little procedure that wouldn’t necessarily determine but directly affect whether I could carry a child or not. That last sentence was stupid. But it would be my second cut. Meaning… I was mentally preparing myself for the worst so I was saying and thinking things that would make me less crazy for potentially bad news after my results. Jesus Christ, kimberly get to the point. This guy mentioned I should want kids and I should want many. I had been looking across a man who I thought was reasonable. Now he was saying things like “you should want many kids. I’m serious…”. I joked and said “oh, I get it. To cancel out all the dumdum people having kids” and he said “well, that too”. It was an interesting meeting. It was more like an interview, which I didn’t mind. I find that happens a lot when I am in meetings with just myself representing the company. Topic trails off into my personal life and people find me interesting for some reason. Asian spectacle?

Anyway, life goes on. It’s weird how a couple months pass and swift decision making changes the direction of our lives almost completely. For some, like me, not so much. To know what I know, I don’t know how Erik can manage what is going on and what is yet to come. Maybe my childish mind can’t wrap my head around the idea because I’m still in a selfish phase and I rather live for myself right now. I want to close the subject about Erik with the guilt I have. Guilt that has been building up for some months. For a while I knew he had been struggling financially but it wasn’t until after I ended things is when I was sure if it. I had my suspicions during our time together but he seemed so confident about it all. I’m feeling some sort of sadness that’s hard to sum up in one word. He put up a front to keep me around. Whether his intent to keep me long term or short, it doesn’t matter. I never want a guy to pretend to be someone he isn’t to be involved with me. He had been looking at apartments and settled for one that was a new development but not necessarily upscale. It didn’t bother me but I acknowledged that because it was an indicator of how much he could/was willing to spend on living. Look, I would’ve continued seeing him if he decided on living somewhere like… energy corridor, ok? Damnit, even if he settled on Spring. As long as the chemistry and sex was still strong. I’ve done a lot of dating in my life. Not to brag. It’s sad really lol. But with my experience, I typically know what I’m working with. Most of them cheap with food but splurging on their living and travel situation hard. Why not? 30-something, single, smart, financially comfortable, handsome types that also pay attention to designer/trendy must-haves. So when Erik decided on this particular place, I suppose that was one sign. One of a few that I ignored for the sake of not trying to pry or look for reasons to kibosh. Neither here nor there, that doesn’t mean the place was cheap, either. Erik was behind on property taxes every year. I felt partially responsible this year. Had he not felt pressured to rent a place because of me (he had been booking hotels for us and this was getting expensive) maybe he would have 15-18k set aside for his new country bumpkin baby on the way and pay those property taxes on time. Sending a gift is weird and creepy but I feel like I owe him. The guilt I have for all his efforts in the beginning of our… entanglement (that’s cool to say right now, right?) which seemed genuine. Me avoiding spending time with him on his birthday because I didn’t want whatever we had going on to mean more than what it was at the time. He spent that time alone at a resort hotel. I’m a jerk in many ways but he wasn’t honest anyway.

There is a memory that comes up often when I do think about my time with Erik. He made me watch “Dont F*ck With Cats” on Netflix KNOWING IT WOULD MAKE ME CRY. He asked me something along the lines of ever googling someone or wondering if I/myself would be so google-able? God, does that make sense? I went to Alief, forgive me. I wanted to tell him I googled him before and I tell him what I knew about him but instead I told him I wouldn’t be so track-able online because I’m not a total dolt. At the point, I knew a lot. I can’t tell if I would’ve treated him differently knowing what I knew about him. If I had not known it was his birthday when he invited me to go somewhere with him… I may have agreed to see him. Knowing it was his birthday weighed heavy on me because I didn’t want to ruin his future birthdays… knowing I would disappoint him at some point anyway. I’m rambling at this point.

In the financial position I’m in, I’m grateful I can spoil myself and 2 cats. I’m almost 30. That may sound old, they may sound young. I can continue to be selfish, that isn’t wrong. I will fix my face. I will fix my body. 2021, new me – physically lol. I’ll do what makes me happy. If I can find someone that can appreciate that, that would be nice. Meanwhile, I’m sure as hell not settling. I will not be tied down and live a life that is apparently miserable for at least one person in the relationship. That seems to be the trend with all relationships lately. Maybe this will be the reason why I end up alone but if I drink enough I’ll never be alone in my head. Dave Attell, anyone?