Samoas. Trefoils. Lent. Giving up cookies and more.

I spent majority of my weekend in bed with whatever-the-hell-it-is flu thing that has been moving from person to person. This morning, while my fever has recovered, I’m still feeling the bit of aches especially in my neck and middle back. It may or may not have to do with spending 85.3% of my Friday-to-Sunday night in bed, but I digress. I was sick, but mostly (ironically?) productive. It’s like that when you are single and live alone. Far be it for me to call my mother for Chicken Noodle soup and just to take care of her 31-year-old oldest daughter because of her 102 degree fever. You still have to take care of yourself — AND house and home. I left my front door only for the laundry room across the hall. My body was miserable, but I wasn’t especially. I slept. A lot. And with that, had dreams. Fantastical dreamy dreams. Actually… shitty dreams.

My mood swing all started with a flurry of Twitter activity about Girl Scout cookies.

I ordered a few boxes at Christmas. Well, HG actually ordered a few for me from one of his little cousins. Needless to say, I will not be receiving my Boxes of Holy Heaven Goodness this year. Yes, I know I could go to the mall or Giant Evil and pick up a box or two. But now it lies in principle. There will be no Girl Scout cookies. There will be no HG, for that matter.

It more than upset me. It really pissed on me. And not in a warm, refreshingly kinky manner. And hence, my crappy mood perpetuated once again.

With that, folks, I’m stepping away. I’m burned out. I need a new direction.  I need to decompose my thoughts, feelings, emotions, and just take a break away from it all. Obviously, I’ve already been writing less. Work is partly the cause. Then life, second. But I suppose I’ve been enjoying more of what life has been bringing me, rather than writing about it. So, while I could make the unrealistic assumption that I would be able to give up all social media for 6 weeks (right?), I’ve decided instead to give up my blog for Lent.

I’m not sure how I’ll continue after my hiatus either. I’m partly hoping that my planned trips and vacations within the next few months will provoke interesting stories or allow me to feel something of a reprieve of obligation. I just feel as though I’ve written all I can. And there are hundreds (thousands?) of others just like me in the Blogosphere. Perhaps it’s time to take my creativity to other outlets. Maybe even other blogs. But for this moment I am just exhausted with writing any longer about my breakups and subsequent exes. I have also lost any and all desire to even date. It’s as though there is too much pain this time do it all over again.

This last breakup hit me harder than I first thought. I mean my past relationships have come-and-gone for each their own reasons: failing disinterest, cheating, boredom… and yes, even “space.” But this is the first time maybe since my early 20s they I feel completely hosed. I mean, I’m almost 32. And I completely fell into someone who wasn’t really who he said he was. And it really, really bothers me. Still. I may as well be dating in my early 20s if I wanted to deal with that kind of bullshit again. And since we cannot erase time or age, I’d rather erase my entire blog (hopefully I won’t). I am no longer in my 20s. And this shit is getting really old.

I’ve spent many years building a fantastic reader base. And for that, I’m grateful (especially to Cleveland Magazine, who has exceeded their “perverse addictions” in their love of both me and my little blog). I will never be able to comprehend how my life became so interesting to so many people.

So for now,  let’s see where the next 40 days brings us, eh? I realize I have a couple more days until the Lenten spirit is upon us, and I haven’t decided if I’ll post anything before then. I mean, maybe I have one more Penis Tuesday under my belt. And before anyone goes all psychotically religious on me, I am reminded that God loves me as who I am — even if my Catholic Church does not accept me. Yet, I still practice Catholicism. And I am way overdue for Confession. And much in the manner of difficult relationships, I’m still hoping that they change.

I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, but only more love. - Mother Teresa

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