Despite only getting to work at 11 a.m. this morning, I still arrived with a brutal hangover. Damn that sangria. You should have seen yesterday’s unedited journal entry notes on my phone. They were a hot fucking mess.
I didn’t do much at work today. I sent a couple of emails, and that’s where the productivity ended. After that, I played on my phone, did some personal writing, went to the bank, had lunch, and then participated in a birthday celebration for a co-worker. It was a stupid day. I felt bad about slacking off, but whatever. Let’s be real here – my work isn’t that important.
As I write this journal entry, I’m only now realizing that I was getting caught up in office gossip with Lucy today. I need to shut my goddamn mouth. It’s going to get me fired. I’m also wondering if I’m verging on being too cocky for my position, and possibly demanding more respect than I may have earned. I don’t know. Just a thought.
I had another date tonight. A guy named Nick, who I matched with on Tinder last week and met for the first time this evening. We went for a casual, post-work dinner together at a sports bar near The Clubhouse. Nick wasn’t what I had expected, but I really liked him.
The guy had it together. Good job, educated, his own condo, well-spoken, and easy to talk to. The only problem was that Nick was clearly a product of Western University bro culture. The fact that he had no fucking clue what he was doing was both endearing and a red flag. Mostly a red flag.
On that note, when our server came around at the end of the meal, Nick specifically asked for separate bills. What? Not even a split? Christ. Maybe Nick didn’t want to pay $3 more for my fried chicken? I don’t know. Either way, Nick outright asked that each of our items be placed on separate checks.
I was so mad. I don’t have a problem with paying for someone’s dinner, but Nick asked me out! He who does the asking, does the paying. That’s the rule. Nonetheless, it’s the one unwritten guideline that never seems to work in my favor. I often end up covering the bill. Naturally, to lead by example, I interrupted Nick and told the waitress that I would take care of everything. That generosity chapped my fucking ass, though. Our bill was $120 for the night. Great.
Not so great, however, was when Nick and I left the restaurant. While standing on the sidewalk, Nick said that he was going to ride his bike home and go to bed. Seriously? Ugh! Nick gave me an awkward hug in the middle of the street – as if he were afraid he might “catch the gay” – and then said goodbye as he peddled away. That was it.
After such a lackluster finale to my date, I wasn’t feeling the greatest. Especially because there was a genuine interest on my part. I really enjoyed my time with Nick. I don’t know if our worlds would mesh well, though. I keep lusting over suit and tie financial types, none of which ever seem to work out for me. Nick was very much a part of that “Kevin Sutherland New York City Ivy Leaguer” crowd, although a touch more heterosexual. Much more heterosexual, actually. “Has never been to a gay club” heterosexual. This is what I’m dealing with. Fuck.
I walked back to the Witch Cave. Once home, I texted Nick to tell him that I had a good time. Nick responded with a big thank you, and that was about it. We’ll see what happens.
Much to my surprise, I found myself motivated to do some exercising tonight. I did my thing on the floor, avoiding any blazing and eating in the process. Mission accomplished. I also checked “masturbate” off of my to-do list. A good old-fashioned rubdown still feels like more of a chore these days, what with my lack of a sex drive due to my medication. After that, I crawled into bed with my phone. I messaged that Colby guy from last night, asking what his deal was. Colby read my text, but never responded. Bye bye.
It’s funny how your whole mood changes after you masturbate. I always used to say, “A masturbate a day keeps the feelings away.” Clearly, I have fallen from my ways. I need to start masturbating more often. Over the course of a couple porn videos, I’ll go from wanting a husband who will fuck my soul out of me, to not even wanting to look at a man.
Even though tonight’s $120 dinner kicked my ass, I’m enjoying the dating moments that I’ve been having recently. Sometimes dates can be annoying. I often feel as though I’m telling the same stories on over and over again when I’m out with a new guy. Other times, a date can be a nice night out to potentially connect with someone on a deeper level. Let’s just call it an investment in my future.
Goodnight xo