I was told by one of my bff’s this weekend that I need to write again…so, here I am, making time that I don’t have to, once again, bitch about the singlehood status. I feel like I’m on fucking repeat so I’m gonna shake this up a bit and get real about what it’s REALLY like being a busy, successful woman trying to be patient on this love bullshit. Wait. I need a glass of wine for this….you might need one too, so give it a pour.
My work weeks consist of anywhere between 50-80 hours of global business. I work on time zones you’ve never heard of…I work with big ships, lots of gas and government regulations, and I try to help make my company billions more dollars so I can continue to work crazy hours and squeeze as much life out of my downtime as possible. That’s my life. And I enjoy what I do. I live a comfortable life. I WANT for nothing material (well…that’s not true…I mean, I WANT a beach house in Central America..I’ll get there one day…but I digress)…I got this. I work my ass off so that I don’t have to rely on anyone to monetarily take care of me.
You know that ol’ adage about not having anyone to share it with…yea, that sorta applies to me. I may be a strong AF woman with a sailor’s mouth, but I do have actual real feelings…and lemme tell you, coming home to an empty house (20 and 130-lb dogs excluded), is getting real fucking old…I have great friends and family and I try to make time for them. But I have limited downtime…and I WANT to have someone I’m romantically interested in to MAKE time for (also who understands that my time is precious and won’t want to waste it). I’m starting to get REAL impatient about this.
I was driving home today from a 14 hour day at work and saw this dad outside playing with his toddler little kiddo. Hit me right in the feels. I spent nearly 10 years with someone who eventually changed his mind about having kids…I’m not one to regret or be resentful of life situations that I congnizantly put myself in, but I’m starting to feel robbed of an opportunity that I feel I should have had. Of course I slowed down when I saw this scene…cuz, well, ‘slow down for children’ and all…but mostly because I had a ‘poor me’ moment and needed to feel something real for a sec. I miss feeling something real. So I let myself.
And now I’m writing about it and making it seem like this is a sob story about my life. It’s not. It was a moment. But I feel them coming more and more these days and it’s really starting to cramp my ‘don’t-give-a-fuck’ style…Maybe the proverbial ‘they’ were right about getting older…getting more sentimental and shit.
Anyway, my friend told me to write…so I did. I literally don’t have time to myself these days…This may just be one of the important things for me that I should make more time for. Like I would make time for someone I care for…
Fuck, I can’t end it like that…nope. Emotion ran out. I can most definitely end it like that.