My mind goes back to that female Uber driver, I wonder if her mom knows what job her daughter has and if she does is she really ok with her picking up complete strangers and driving them around while she is by herself. I know if that was my daughter there is no way she would be doing that, she would be working at McDonald’s or Walmart, somewhere anywhere, but not alone in a car picking up some crazy lunatic that is going to kill her. I mean now there really isn’t anywhere that is totally safe to work. You are in danger every time you leave the comfort of your home and put yourself out amid the crazy place we call earth. There I go again, I am off and running with the everyone is fucked up and, on the prowl, to hurt or kill you. See I am paranoid and fucked up enough that I don’t need influences by watching the news or reading the newspaper. I sit down to eat, and I grab my journal out of its hiding place. I haven't written in here for about a week or two, well actually maybe it has been longer. So, I figure why not take the time to write in it tonight and get out some of the thoughts that are floating around in my brain. With everything that has happened and with all the changes I am noticing maybe by writing I will be able to connect the dots and see what it is that has changed. I put the date at the top of the paper and start writing about all the excitement that has happened since the last time that I had written. Which I see has been a lot longer than a week or two. Maybe therefore I stopped writing, it’s boring I find out, really nothing much has happened in my life. That is not until I had my life turned upside down by Warren or “W” as he calls himself and his attempt to kill the little amount of self-esteem that I have managed to hold onto. I continue to write as I am eating and realize I had a lot more to write about than what I thought when it came to Mr. Davenport. After I finish up writing what needs to be written, I realize that my dinner really hit the spot, for some reason I was hungry tonight. I am now thinking that having a nice big bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream after my shower sounds quite appealing. I have never been lucky to be thin girl, I love to eat and hate to exercise. Exercise is another thing that I didn’t do growing up, I mean yes, I played outside and got exercise that way but never went to a gym. My parents never did either, I do remember my mom watching exercise programs on tv and doing them when I was young, but that was about it. I absolutely hate to exercise, I have in the past two years gone to the gym more than my 22 years prior to that. I went faithfully for one year straight, but then I had a stomach issue and stopped going and have not really been back to the gym since. I always say I must get back, and it never happens I always have an excuse, which is basically laziness. Another thing about exercising is I hate to sweat, I think it is so disgusting the way it makes you feel. Even after taking a shower when I dry off and get dressed I manage to somehow still be hot and yucky feeling. I’m tired just from thinking about going to the gym. I grab my dishes and rinse them off in the sink and I will just let them there until I have enough that I can start the dishwasher. Seeing my dirty laundry, I decide to throw a load into the washing machine, I pull my clothing out of the closet for tomorrow and grab my pajamas and head into the bathroom. As I am in the shower I begin to think about what I really should do with Warren. I really would like to pursue him, if he is legit and is the good guy that he is portraying. It is just so hard for me to take that chance, I am so scarred from my past. After being fucked up by so many men and realizing that none of them were near as attractive as what Warren is, makes it even harder for me to believe that he is for real. I mean it is hard for me to trust that there are any men out there that are nice, ones that don’t hurt others. I have had such a bad time with men, that I went through a phase in my life where I was seriously contemplating becoming a lesbian. I had friends though that were lesbian and that too didn’t seem to be a way of getting away from drama and arguing, so I stuck with the guys. Now that I am a little older, I realize that it doesn’t matter what kind of relationship you are talking about there will be problems. When you take two people and expect them to get along 24/7 it will never happen. But there is a limit to what is entailed in not getting along, there is no excuse for someone to physically or mentally abuse another person. No excuse at all, and no excuse for the victim to feel like they should allow it or put up with it |