Your Big Book of June Events will remind you that I hired a life coach recently, a life coach in London, because I have to make things difficult for myself.
Remember when I got my tax refund, which I keep typing “rax refund” like I’m Astro the dog. Anyway, remember how I said I was going to spend some of it on plumbing, because my shower gets cold fast? Perhaps you don’t remember any of this because it’s boring as shit. Well, to make a boring story even boring-er, the plumber came and he fixed my shit for freeeee! No, I did not sleep with him like I was in a dirty movie. “I’m here to…unclog your pipes.”
It was just a simple fix (we turned up the thermostat or whatever it’s called, in the water tank) and he wants my future business and he’s got it.
So since I had money from NOT spending money on plumbing, I found this life coach and so far I really like his stuff, but here’s what I have to tell you.
Part of what I have to do to be life coached is to write stuff down that’s going on with me, not like how I write all my minutiae down for you, but on a more personal, well, I hate to say level. It bugs me. Everyone’s on a level. That’s on a whole nother level! She took it to a new level! Oh, shut up.
I gotta write down a buncha personal shit, then afterward, I have to write down how it made me…
And here is what I’ve observed: I have no idea. I sit there in silence and think, How do I feel? and I think I feel either nothing or annoyed. Like, those are my two emotions: nothing or annoyed. Sometimes distracted. Is distracted a feeling?
Sometimes I like kittens. Is that a feeling?
So. That seems like it’s probably, you know, not good.
I remember my friend Gertrude, years ago, telling me a story about some boy she was dating, and how she told him how something made her feel, and thinking, “Wow, I would have felt that way, too, but I’d have never noticed I felt it.” And that was, like, in 1994.
Gertrude is phenomenally beautiful so there was always a man so maybe she got good at noting how she felt with them. I’ve come to the conclusion that being phenomenally beautiful isn’t so great. First of all, you only attract the kind of man who thinks he deserves a beautiful woman. Second of all, there’s no time to recover from the last man because you literally go to the bookstore to buy breakup books and someone new picks you up among the stacks.
Gertrude is happily single now and lives in the country with her daughter and dogs and cats and gets to see shooting stars. But men always love her all the time even when she goes to Rite-Aid for toilet paper. As a solid 7 at my peak, this was never an issue.
Although once I was on on the ferry outside Seattle, on my way back from a date, and got asked on another date. I said yes, but this was back when no one had caller ID except me. I had all the phone-related stuff early. I love the phone. Anyway, the guy called to confirm our date FROM A TANNING SALON.
I never called him back. For all I know he’d rushed into the salon to save someone’s life, to save someone from a UV ray crisis, and when he was done he thought, Oh, I should use their phone to call and confirm my date with the ferry slut. But I’ll never know because who wants to date the guy who calls from Tanfastic?
I also once got asked on a date while I on another date. (The bartender.) I totally went on that date with that bartender. He was an absolutely beautiful man of color and I ended up not liking him because he was earnest.
But let’s get back to why I feel no feelings. WHAT EVEN IS THAT? I hadn’t noticed it till this London life coach told me to list them, which is maybe why he did so, I don’t know. I speak with him again via satellite, because London, tomorrow.
Does anyone else have this going on? Why did it happen? Have I always been this way? I wasn’t paying attention.
I have no idea how I feel about it.
*Name that band