I’ve done well communicating with the opposite sex. In fact, I could walk up to any girl and talk to them with absolute ease. That’s when I was married. Now, well, now I’m 15 again. If an attractive girl even looks in my direction I dive under the nearest table or behind the closest person. They could have been looking at the sun, the walk signal, pictures of Matt Damon – doesn’t matter, if it’s in my general direction – GONE.
All the insecurities and troubles with the opposite sex; the nerves before talking to a girl, the panicked empty spaces that form long lingering silences while you try and think of something to talk about – they are all back. It’s daunting. You think something like this goes away after you gain experience and confidence in life. I’ve always been in long term relationships and I’ve never been single for long. But I have no idea how I made the leap all those times in the past.
That’s one side of the coin. The other side is that I’ve started my new job. It’s a pretty intense job. Work wise it’s fairly easy. It’s a lot of memorization, a lot of programming and access screens that I have to navigate – easy part; but, the quality of work I do can have a major impact on society. If I just hit one wrong key stroke I could create a chain reaction that could ruin a person’s life for quite some time to come. As such I’ve been working really slowly at work with the hopes that I’ll never make a mistake. I’m told it will happen, that everyone at this job makes a mistake sooner or later, but I just wan’t mine to be much later. If I make a mistake now I have to run around and say, “What did I do! What did I do!” Hopefully in the future I’ll have the skills to fix it myself.
This is just a short post for today. I really need to pick up my game but I’ve been so distracted at home. I’ve started creating a new social group here in my new town. I’ve gone camping, hiking, I’ve played disc golf on various courses, and through the ups and emotional downs of the divorce I’ve found myself in some inebriated state most evenings. That in itself has really slowed down my writing progress. I can’t boast the liver of the great Hemingway or the social finesse of the Fitzgeralds – when I am under the influence I check out.
I’ll try to make writing here my major coping mechanism. I’m sure my lungs and liver will appreciate that.