Borderline Personality Disorder Blog. Bipolar Disorder Blog. BPD. DBT. Cleveland. A Fragment in Orange.


Dirty Underwear

Six hours of bliss today, a Saturday, tucked away in the little nook in my room at work. With no work to be done. Six hours of drinking coffee and reading blogs, eating cookies and smarties I pilfered from the break room, writing a grocery list and messing around with the pitting edema on my shins. I've had too many cans of SpaghettiOs lately -- the crazy amount of sodium in each can makes my legs swell. Legs -- I haven't shaved in seven weeks. Since the last time I met up with my fuck buddy. Hate that term. Fuck buddy. My leg hair is the longest it's been since I first started shaving. Half the length of one of the hairs from my dog (a lab, if that helps with imagining). The end of things with the fuck buddy came uneventfully. After the last time I suddenly felt that I didn't want to see him again. The feeling must have been mutual because I haven't heard from him since. Actually, he did text me once about his latest news -- he had cleared out a part of his garage to make space for tools. Umm, okay. How do you respond to a text like that? I didn't. The end.

All this blog-reading has gotten me psyched to start blogging again. I like having the record of my days. I need to write more often. Erase previous entries less often. Filter myself less. But I don't know what I should write about. The recent me, on most days, wakes up in the morning, goes to work, comes home, eats (and eats), cuddles with the dog, and sleeps (and sleeps and sleeps and sleeps WAY too much). Weekends are more sleeping and lots of television. I've declared this the year of no-spending (don't ask me why but "this year" started in September), so I'm not going out and doing anything of great interest. Sometimes I hang out with friends. Sometimes I take the dog to the park. And that's about it. What do I have to write about?

This year of no-spending is also the year I stop beating myself up for not having an exciting life. This is the year I'm content with the mundane. Okay with the mess and clutter in my house. Fine with wearing a pair of underwear twice before doing the laundry. Hunky dory with not shaving my legs and not taking my vitamins every day. Satisfied with meals of SpaghettiOs and peanut butter and honey sandwiches.

So there.

No comments: