Dating a Pot Head: I don’t MarjiWanna Do It Anymore. I Just Cantabis Take It.

Dating a Pot Head: I don’t MarjiWanna Do It Anymore. I Just Cantabis Take It.

Warning: This is a ranting whiny relationshipy post. Sorry.

I’ve known this fact but denied it for months. I feel  I can no longer continue my journey with J.

I wanted this to work. Not because it was convenient. Not because it was a rebound. Not because I need it.

But Continue reading “Dating a Pot Head: I don’t MarjiWanna Do It Anymore. I Just Cantabis Take It.”

Blegh.

Blegh.

I cannot for the life of me get a good positive groove back.

I am obsessed with nit picking and obsessing on the negative.

I am pretty sure I am in the middle of destructing my relationship with J. I have been cold, passive aggressive, frustrated. Continue reading “Blegh.”

Friends.

Friends.

Lets just visit this topic real quick.

First: I am not a good friend. I am bad at calling and texting back. I like my alone time. I also have a kid. That makes on the fly socializing impossible. I am a scatter brain, I forget and I am flaky as fuck.

Second: I avoid confrontation. So if I sense there is a rumble of dissent, I do this thing I call “The dip”. I dip out. Radio silence.

I don’t have a best friend. Continue reading “Friends.”

Home.

Home.

Cliches annoy me. They roll too easy off the tongue and involve little thought. But they exist because they are mostly true.

They say that:

Home is where the heart is.

It’s like a stupid sign I would hang in the living room as a decoration. I had certainly bought into that idea without putting thought into. Like, yes my address where I live is also where my family lives.  And until the divorce the idea of “Home” was simply a structure with walls and roof. A home was a thing you paint and fill. Something you pay for and something you can sell. Continue reading “Home.”