The second day of a Three Day Drunk requires strategies, especially if it falls on a school night. Tonight I’ve opted for the White Claw he left in my fridge the last time he was here. Feels somehow cathartic. Work today was a bit easier on everyone in that I was too tired to be too bitchy, and too busy to think about why I’m so upset.
Side note: at 100 calories per drink I’m set to consume my entire day’s caloric intake through these stupid White Claw cans. Do these things remind anyone else of Zima? How do grown men end up with this shit anyway?
Whatever. Back tot he story. The Three Day Drunk is working as planned. I’m already starting to think less and less of the things that made me sad, and when I do think of them they don’t actually make me as sad either. At some level they make me mad, maybe disappointed in myself, but not really sad. Stages?
Here’s the thing: I never wanted to be in a relationship. I never asked for it, one day he just said we were in one and I simply didn’t argue. Could I have prevented this whole pile of bullshit? Probably not. I’m over 40, my libido is pretty stereotypical of my age and gender, and he is pretty hot. I wanted to sleep with him… a lot… and I was going to do and say what I needed to in order to accomplish this number 1 objective. Did I expect to get my heart involved? Absolutely not. And who knows, maybe I didn’t. Maybe I just think I did because my hormones are all up in this shit like a teenage girl watching a boy band.
There’s also something to be said for his ambition. With an ex-husband who literally sat around the house for more than a few years, it was really exciting to be with someone at the other end of the spectrum. Perhaps too far on the other side of that spectrum, to be quite frank. This guy is pretty extreme. He’s 120% invested in whatever he is into, and zero if he’s not into it. By “it” I mean quite literally anything – people, places, things, events, jobs, whatever. Go big or go home, he would say.
He also made me glad I never went for my MBA because I have got to tell you – that degree is probably more common than herpes among people in our age bracket. Everyone and their uncle has a MBA, and I’ll honestly never understand why. I might also wager the majority of people with an MBA aren’t using it at all. It’s not to say I’m going to make great use of my masters degree in political science, but at least it’s not yet another MBA out there in the wild.
So boy band and his MBA are still somewhat on my mind, but we’re progressing through the stages at a good pace. I only did a little facebook stalking today, and with school starting back up I’ll barely have time to consider any of this. His shit drinks will be out of my fridge by the end of this post, and I’ll finally have blocked him from basically all social media. Maybe.
Another key element to the Three Day Drunk includes distractions – boys who you probably wouldn’t actually date but will give a whirl simply because you have an empty space where a human used to be. So I went back on that dating site where we met, just to see what’s out there. The good news about those sites is that they have no shortage of distractions. Distraction 1: He’s more than twice my size, has shoulders you could stand on, but has questionable work ethic and trouble with words that have more than 3 syllables, but he’s nice enough to keep me busy. More on that later…
The key here is actually in Day Three. The last drunk of my recovery. That’s the moment when I shake this guy for good. It’ll be awesome, and I’m really looking forward to it. Now… back to my canned Zima and new boy. Catch you all tomorrow.
Stay tuned for more…