The Wacky World of Meetups

Hola Peeps and Peepettes.  How are you all doing on this chilly (in my area anyway) Sunday evening?

I haven’t been very motivated to write lately and to be honest, zero pounds lost.  I don’t know what the issue is. I think I’m finding writing about how much weight I HAVEN’T lost is getting tedious.  You must be bored to tears hearing me talk of it and see zero results.

So what have I been doing with myself?  Good question.  Not a whole lot. Funny thing is, I’m happy as a bird with a french fry, regardless.

Work is going well; I love my job.  My son is doing good and so is my mom.  All is fine in my little world, so I’ve been spending a lot of time just…being.

Truth be told, though, my social circle is getting smaller.  It’s a common occurrence when a person starts to get a little older. I find one friend in particular so dull that I hesitate to spend much time with her.  There’s another friend that I have ghosted because of her inability to stick to plans and her lack of presence when she is in the same room as me.  Her endless whining about every little ache and pain she gets is also a bore.  Don’t get me started on the pictures of her kid.

Enter the world of Meetups.  I’ve been attending Meetups on and off for about 10 years.

When this concept first started, I thought it was pretty cool.  It got me out of the house, I met new people and made some friends along the way.

Nowadays though, I’m starting to wonder if it’s just not a gathering place for social misfits.

I attended a dinner last night at an Italian restaurant with a group I had joined last Summer.  The organizer has a lot of fun events that involves live music.  She’s in the know of local bands and their venues.  She recently started a foodies meetup and invited me.

So off I went.  The couple in front of me was pleasant enough.  As the night progressed, we enjoyed a couple laughs together.

Then there was the social worker with zero social skills.

This fruit loop had one morbid conversation after another.  I knew she was going to be a real stinker when she opened up by showing us her injured finger.  Apparently, a cat from the rescue shelter she volunteers at (oh why is this not surprising) clamped on and would not let go.  Seems the poor thing was actually dangling from her fingers in mid air.

Well, thank you, crazy cat lady, for removing your dirty band-aid to reveal what might end up as a gangrenous scenario at the table while we are eating. I don’t know about you all, but nothing works up my appetite like a tale of tetanus.

So as she kept pouring herself more wine, she regaled us with stories of serial killers, fake profile dating site scammers, and for dessert – priests that molest young boys. That was all washed down with tales of transgenders and gay social workers.

For. Fuck’s. Sake.

Can someone please explain to me what would possess someone to talk of such things at dinner with a table full of strangers?  I swear, if I ever get to that point where I just can no longer think of anything pleasant to speak about, someone please punch me in the throat and send me home.

Never a dull moment in the life of a singleton.

 

 

A Blustery Day With My Thoughts

Hello my lovelies!  I have missed logging on here. Work has been taking up a little too much time lately.  I rarely leave the office before 7pm anymore. Last week I was there until 9pm….on a FRIDAY. Ugh. Sick.

However, I left work at 5:30pm last night and joined some former colleagues for dinner. Did I behave myself? Hell no and neither did they.

This might be true for Edith Piaff, but as for me….not so much this morning

I hopped on the scale this morning and miraculously, it did not shatter under my girth.  Sadly though, the numbers have gone up again.  This morning’s reading was 197.4….I have no words except…help.

All kidding aside though, work has been the excuse I’ve been using to not go to the gym.  That stops now.  Everybody else is out there enjoying their lives and I’m being a slave to the grind.  I need to find a better work/life balance. Why do I feel like I have to put in so many hours and try to look like a superstar at work?

I like the feeling of getting something accomplished and that has always transferred into my work life without a problem.  My personal life though, not so much. Interesting.

Enough about that. Today is one of those chilly, crisp air days.  I’ve just finished my bowl of oatmeal with a smidge of brown sugar and chopped apples. Sigh…I truly am addicted to sugar. I had such a hard time scarfing this down.  Anyhoo…I’m going to make amends for last night’s meal and go for a walk around the neighborhood.

I have a couple of little projects around the house I’d like to tackle.  If I’m feeling generous, I might post a couple of before/after shots.

This time of year is good for my soul. It forces me to nest a little more, to take care of things I have been neglecting, and to read, write, reflect.

I realize that I have not been taking all that good care of myself.  Example – I’ve been saying for two weeks now that I want to give myself a manicure/pedicure. Excuse after excuse and still no polish on my tooties or fingers.

I’ll stop now because I really do want to go for a walk.  I will write more later. Stay with me.  I want to share some thoughts on the upcoming holiday parties and how I’m going to cope.

Have an awesome day.

 

Worst Monday Ever

Today was the absolute most crappy crap-fest of a day I’ve had in a long time. Put it to you this way, I was in my pyjamas by 6:56pm and looking at my bed like I wanted to crawl UNDER it with the cat.

To begin, I bought a new scale and stepped on it first thing today. I have GAINED six pounds.  I’m going to explode soon, I’m sure.  I’m so disgusted in myself that I just want to stop eating altogether.

Then there was work.  I don’t know, guys.  I’m starting to think that this new job might not work out.  The communication there really stinks. I’ve yet to read an email that was clear and concise.  One of the women I work with has a habit of writing in long run on sentences. She also is a big fan of saying “Like I said…..”.  Ok, you know what, lady.  Kiss my arse with that. Never mind the fact that you’re a nervous wreck and can’t remember what you had for breakfast.

Or my very favorite…the FYI email.  I can’t tell you how many times I’ve been sent these clusterfuck correspondences with ZERO directives attached to them. FYI? Okay, what the hell do I do with this?  So effing aggravating.

This adjustment is harder than I anticipated.  The former colleague who got me in is one moody little dude.  He always has this deadpan look on his face that is making me so uncomfortable. I thought he was like that at our former place of work because he didn’t like the place.  Turns out, that’s his personality.  Nice guy, but would it freaking kill you to smile once in a while?  So fucking serious all the time. Sharing an office with him is just the cat’s ass.  Come to think of it, pretty much everybody, except for two other people on my floor, look freaking miserable all the time. Fun.

I don’t know what to think anymore. Part of me wants it to work out because I’m learning new things. Another part of me wants to just tell them to drop the other shoe already and get it over with.  I’ll just keep doing my best and hope it all works out I guess.

 

Bits ‘N Bobs

Hey folks.  A happy Sunday morning to all. Nothing major to write about this morning.  Actually, there was something I have been wanting to write about  but haven’t had the time. Trouble is…I can’t remember what it was.  It is driving me absolutely nucking futs. Has that ever happened to you?  It’s like it’s right on the tip of your tongue or trying to swim its way to the forefront of your brain but keeps getting lost  for some reason. Probably directional-y challenged! I think I just made up that word, but I’m not sure.

Aaaaanyhooo….I have started this weird habit again.  A couple years ago, I discovered the “burrito” sleep position…mmmm burritos…. Being someone who has always tossed and turned multiple times a night, for some reason I tend to get a better night’s sleep when I lay over the covers.  What I do is lay on top of the duvet, then pull each side in towards me and voila!  A perfect night’s sleep. Either that, or I just lay on top of the covers and loosely pull a blanket over myself. There’s something about being tucked in tight that just does not do it for me.

Here’s another odd one…I also do not own a pair of pyjamas or a nightgown.  I sleep in clean undies and a wife-beater type shirt.  not sure why I feel the need to specify that part – who wants to sleep in dirty skivvies?? Besides, if I die in the middle of the night and the medics have to drag my lifeless body out, I want to make sure my underwear are clean. Make sense? I thought so. You are welcome.

I will occasionally throw a pair of sockettes (those are ankle socks for those of you that are not Canucks) and boom..Best. Sleep. Ever.

Darn it, I had hope that the original topic of what I wanted to write about would have made an appearance during my random ramblings, but nope.  Still buried deep in the chambers of my brain. Oh well, if it comes back to me, I’ll let you know.