Gray and rainy and dreary - that's what it's been like the past couple of days. My head is full of thoughts and wonderings, but I'm so muddled, I'm not sure I can write them down. Funny, I'm supposed to be so good with words (first an English major, now an attorney), but right now they seem to be failing me, at least in regard to all that's rattling around in my head. Feels like my brain is stuffed with oatmeal - blech. And it's probably not helping my mood, being back at work after a four-day weekend. The novelty would probably wear off pretty quickly, but some days I think it would be lovely to be a lady of leisure.
Maybe I'll just jump right in and rearrange my thoughts as necessary, maybe just the act of writing will help me get untwisted.
I had the privilege of having lunch last Friday with R, a man I've met since K and I have separated. I find him most fascinating - he's tall (didn't realize that was something I liked until recently, I always figured it didn't matter much since I'm so short!), musical, frighteningly intelligent (definitely something that's important to me - I'm tired of dumbing myself down on any level), well-read, likes children, likes shooting (another thing from my past I didn't realize I'd missed until I did it again - nothing like blowing holes in things to relieve stress!), and I probably like him way more than is prudent. Anyway, since Friday I've been thinking about many, many things. I'll see if any of them translate to the written word. I've started trying to write about five different times but always gave up in disgust because nothing was coming out right. See if this time is any different.
2 comments:
Speaking of "frighteningly intelligent" and "dumbing down". I personally prefer women who are my intellectual equal. Smart women are more attractive to me than their looks otherwise indicate, dumb women less so.
The previous comment assumes that their intelligence is used for good, not evil. Conniving, controlling, hypercritical, manipulative, man-hating, self-important women don't do it for me one bit either.
It doesn't sound like you're like that though. Don't dumb yourself down. Be you. Never settle. OTOH realize that Mr. Perfect doesn't, never has, never will exist. The phrase "he completes me" should only be used to apply to kidney donors, not romantic partners.
Jay
Jay
Nah, life's too short to invest all my energy in being manipulative, etc. :-) And I do realize there is no such thing as the "perfect" man - perfect for me, perhaps, but not perfect in the sense that I'll never, ever be unhappy or annoyed or irritated or pissed off about anything he says or does (or doesn't say or doesn't do). Just like there's no perfect woman - Lord knows I don't even come close to that description!
L.
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