Monday.

Here we are, back at the Secret Society, as per usual. There is no one here at the moment. Just me and the bartender. Perfect. Now I can write something.

Yesterday was… strange, but it ended relatively well. My Horse Guy was too busy watching “footy” and horse races with his friend to give me any attention. Typical.

They stayed here all day long. At a certain point it started to feel like we were playing chicken and just waiting each other out. In the end, he left without making a move, which was disappointing. Instead his friend walked up to me when I was having a chat with someone else and said, “I’m watching you.”

Yeah, who isn’t, right?

I just laughed at him and said, “Well, I hope you enjoy the show!”

He just gave me a weird look and left. Whatever.

Yeah, I know how it looks for me to be sitting in here chatting with all of these old guys. But you also have to remember that I’m a writer and I consider what I’m doing to be work. Engaging in flirtatious banter with these old bankers doesn’t make me a sex worker. I don’t just go home with anyone. I choose who I go home with. I chose your friend, aka the Horse Guy, for a reason. Maybe you should trust that reason instead of making assumptions about me.

Jerk.

Anyway, fuck these guys. I don’t need this shit in my life. I deserve to be with someone who doesn’t fuck me one time and then ignore me the next time we’re in the same room together.

MEN!

UGH!

Otherwise, the day was pretty boring. It got interesting when my “Uncle” showed up. We were just having a chat like we usually do, but then he got handsy with me in front of Horse Guy. I realized how it looked, so I told him to stop. He got weird about it and we had an argument over it.

Obviously, I didn’t want to just come out and say, “Hey, the guy I just fucked two weeks ago is sitting right over there. I’m concerned he’s going to think of me differently if he sees me allowing any old random man off the street to put their hands all over me.” But we all know that’s why it was upsetting me.

I could literally see the wheels turning in Horse Guy’s head as he was watching this exchange. It did not make me feel good to see him looking at me that way.

Of course, being very English, my Uncle decided to make his argument the hill he dies on. He just wouldn’t let it go. He kept insisting he wasn’t getting touchy-feely with me because he had bad intentions. Like, yes, I get it, but I’m still sitting here telling you I personally feel uncomfortable right now and I want you to stop. So just fucking stop!

Finally, the bartender intervened and separated us because we were causing a disruption. My Uncle went off to the bathroom. When he came back, he had a strange look on his face. He apologized to me, so I invited him to sit back down in the seat next to me. We just sat there together in silence until he finished his drink and left.

Luckily, right at that moment, the Scottish writer I was tracking down appeared. He walked over to me and said, “Hey, I brought you a gift. Come sit down with me at my table over there.”

I got up and went to his table to chat with him. He pulled out a copy of his book and handed it to me. He signed it for me and wished me well on my writing journey. He left shortly after and I sat back down at the bar with said book. It’s really good, actually. It made me feel seen and heard in a way I haven’t felt in a very long time.

This was when Horse Guy’s friend walked by me and said he was watching me. Yeah, so awkward, right? Jesus tap dancing Christ.

Ridiculous.

At this point, I just packed up and left because I was over it. I walked down to the Cantina to visit my friends. They were making me feel guilty for not visiting them recently. They think I ditched them for the Secret Society, which is not true. I pulled out the book the writer gave me and explained that I’ve been on a specific mission to acquire it. Then I promised to come in to visit them later on this week.

I left so they could close down, then stopped by the Corner Bar on Peel Street so I could hide in the shadows and just take a moment alone to recover from whatever the fuck that entire day was. I wasn’t ready to run home to my neighbor’s sweatpants at all. In fact, I realized I was actually dreading it.

Also, I was pissed off about the way Horse Guy acted. I was specifically hoping that would work out so I wouldn’t have to go back to that goddamn apartment and share that fucking wall with my neighbor anymore.

Nope! No boyfriend for me! Instead I get to go home and share a paper-thin wall with this ridiculously hot sexy beefcake who I don’t even get to fuck! It is actually starting to drive me insane. Even right now I can feel myself longing to scratch the itch, but I can’t. It’s like… I literally can’t do this anymore. ALL I can think about is fucking this guy’s brains out. Meanwhile, he’s sitting on the other side of the wall thinking to himself, “This bitch is fucking C R A Z Y. Maybe I should get up off my lazy ass and move to Lamma Island after all.”

Yeah, go, please. I can’t do this anymore. I had a whole meltdown over it this morning. That, and many other things, all coming together in one moment to push me right over the fucking edge. It was so bad. I completely lost my shit. Even my other neighbor approached me on the rooftop later like, “You good, girl?”

No. No, I’m not good. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t keep doing this alone. I just want a boyfriend who will fuck me every day and take me out on fun dates! Why is that so hard to find?!?! I’m so over it!

Okay, I’m starting to get stressed out from writing this post. I’m going to have a cigarette. Oh my god, I would give ANYTHING to smoke a big fat joint right now. It’s the only thing that keeps me sane in this ridiculous world, I swear.

Farewell.