Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
But I can’t go back.
I’m not that person anymore.
I don’t wanna be that person anymore.
And if not being that person means figuring out how to have friends instead of just supply connections then so be it.
I can make this change.
I just have to treat the shit like everything else.
Take it one fucking step at a time.
Chapter 6
Presley
Discussion Topic 3: Stop Being Satisfied with Participation Trophies
“This is where you tell me that you’ve left your new – still not decorated – townhome for more than work and groceries,” Katherine unhappily snips from the other end of my cell.
“Excuse you, it is decorated.”
“One abstract zebra painting above your bed and two ladder shelves of poetry books in your living room is not decorated, darling.”
Um…I beg to differ.
Especially since it’s more than I ever did at my last place.
My argument comes out at a predictable meek volume, “I go to the gym sometimes.”
“Out of enjoyment or out of obligation you feel for having enjoyed one too many everything bagels while watching Shall We Dance on repeat?”
“Maybe I should take a dance class?”
“Maybe you should just do anything that isn’t obsessing over the upcoming Spring Fling event or reorganizing your empty fridge shelves.”
“They aren’t empty!”
“Much like your two additions at decorations isn’t décor, simply having bottled water and flavored coffee creamer isn’t having a full fridge.”
“You’re really underselling my progress,” I playfully argue as I shamefully slink down into my seat. “Where’s the chapter about counting your wins or something?”
“Stop being satisfied with participation trophies, darling, and get out there to get a real win!”
But “real wins” requires “real work” and right now that seem “real hard”.
Uprooting my entire existence was exhausting.
Reestablishing order where there had only been insanity was exhausting.
Learning to express my displeased disposition instead of shoving an Oreo into my mouth is exhausting.
Is it really so bad to just…float by for a bit?
My eyes shut in premature defeat.
Of course it is.
I’ve already spent so much of my life coasting that I know if just keep up like I am, I’m gonna end up exactly like I was.
Which is the opposite of what I want.
“Have we reached the part of the conversation where you realize I’m right yet?”
Adjusting my box frame glasses is followed by a heavy sigh. “Unfortunately.”
“Good,” she playfully exclaims on a triumphant giggle, “now, I know in the split Xander got to keep all of your ‘mutual’ friends, but that doesn’t mean you can’t make new ones or be more social than smiling at strangers at the grocery store.”
It’s polite!
“How was bar trivia with Gabe on Monday night?”
“Horrible.” I allow my stare to resume staring at the screen of a new employee application. “Not only was it sports trivia – like how the fuck should I know anything about hockey – it was like Olympic based! I mean why would I know anything about Torrance Watkins?”
“The equestrian?”
“Why do you know that?”
“Darling, we have horses, my mother used to breed horses, and I was basically birthed on the back of one. It would be a crime not to know who she was pre or post her last name change.”
Speechlessness pulls my lips to one side of my face.
“And just because you had one not so great outing with your brother-”
“Where the Dolly Parton inspired waitress kept throwing herself at my very happily married, very happily gay, big brother.”
“-doesn’t mean you stop trying to build new friendships or make new self-discoveries. This process of finding out if you truly prefer paper or plastic-”
“Reusable.”
“-beef or chicken-”
“Bread.”
“-pie or crème brûlée -”
“Why was cake not an option?”
“Presley,” Katherine chastises on a heavy sigh, “all I’m trying to say is keep trying. New foods. New shows. And hanging out with new people or people you already know in a new perhaps social setting. Just don’t give up, alright? Rome wasn’t built in a day.”
Fuck me, do I hate that phrase.
What if Rome was built in a day?
What if building Rome took a day but word spreading it was what took the rest of the time?
And why do I have to be like a great fallen city?!
That almost feels like a setup.
Like you’re pre-planning for me to fail.
Is she?
Or maybe I am?
Ugh, why the fuck is being single somehow more complicated than cohabitating?!
“We will absolutely get together when I get home and go shopping and for drinks and find things for us to do with and without my precious bundle of sass – which again thank you for cutting Carter slack on pickup duty. I swear that man probably won’t even understand why he has to attend his own funeral.”
Giggling together feels good.
Overdue.
“In the meantime, try to get away from work, away from your Spring Fling event, away from the employee applications…”
Seriously.
Does she have a camera setup in my office?”
“Try to do something social again, darling.” Voices in the background prompt her departure. “I gotta go. Time for wardrobe.”