Thursday, September 18, 2014

Thursday.

I guess Thursday is the day I blog now.

Right.

I've been stressed lately. I've been busy, and I've been accomplishing things, but my time has been so structured that even when I schedule time in for myself to relax, it feels just that--scheduled. Like it's a chore. I could do with a little spontaneity.

I've started Zumba again, and that's why the top of my thighs hurt so badly. I have not done squats in quite some time. Today Lulu and I are trying "Zumba Toning," which is apparently Zumba with weights. My arms are not looking forward to it. Yesterday at rock climbing I fell off a 5.9 and bashed my shin into the corner of a large hold. It hurt. A lot. But it's not bruising and I'm disappointed. I wanted a battle scar. The story's not nearly so dramatic if I have no evidence.

I seem to be in a bad mood today. Not angry so much as dissatisfied and a bit cranky. This may be due to the fact that it's the first day of Shark Week (thank you Leta for the world's most finely crafted euphemism). This may be due to the fact that I haven't been sleeping well. This may be due to the fact that I just received two fiction rejections in a row.

However, in a gratifying and somewhat hilarious twist of fate, I was recently named a finalist in Gigantic Sequins' poetry contest. I was submitting to their flash fiction contest, but I had all these poems from workshop, so I figured I may as well submit to their poetry contest, too. Guess it paid off. They're not going to publish the poem, but still. It's something.

One day someone's going to publish a piece of fiction that I write. At least once. Promise.

I've been thinking of joining Tinder and going on some dates, in an attempt at spontaneity. I'm sick of receiving misspelled misogynist messages on OkCupid. (Actually, I haven't been on OKC in months, but if I were to sign in and check my inbox I guarantee that 98% of them would be misspelled misogynist messages.) The benefit of Tinder is that nobody can talk to each other unless they mutually agree to talk to each other. Plus, it seems like more people are on Tinder now than OkCupid, anyway.

What's been holding me back? Dating is the worst activity of all time ever. The only real motivation to do it is to find someone who sticks so that you can stop doing it. I try to be optimistic in all things, but if Tinder is anything like OkCupid, I imagine it will happen like this: I will go on lackluster date after lackluster date after lackluster date, and maybe once in a while I'll go on multiple dates with one person for about two weeks and he'll say he really likes me but then he'll get bored after two weeks and break it off or I will get bored after two weeks and break it off because after several investigatory dates I can think of no adjective to describe this person besides "nice."

Sorry if I sound bitter. It's hard not to be. It didn't used to matter when this always happened because I was young, and I figured eventually it wouldn't happen. Twenty-six isn't old, but it isn't exactly young, either, and now the fact I can't seem to figure out a relationship is starting to get weird, isn't it? Weird, and tiring, and weird, and I'm becoming paranoid, and I'm like ohmigod I must have some horrible flaw that nobody's ever told me and that's why nobody likes me ohmigod I'm a monster!!!

I don't really think I'm a monster. I think that I'm not sexually attracted to the vast majority of the population. Furthermore, I think that a lot of men aren't 100% on board with feminism, and that a lot of men--actually, a lot of people--consider fiction to be frivolous, and these are two opinions that I cannot abide.

Okay. Rant complete. I have to get ready for Zumba. I'm sorry that this is so negative. I promise to be cheerier next time. Tomorrow is another day. So is next Thursday.

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