Fuck the hopeless romantic (Part II)

Well, my beer got replenished, I grabbed a snack in the form of an avocado and was able to “talk this out” with my roommate / landlord.  While I may not understand her in any way, shape or form – there are certain underlying characteristics that make us who we are as humans.  You know, Homo sapiens sapiens.  Yes…pick apart my usage of the second sapiens.  We can argue this all day…and we’ll subsequently lose sight of what the hell really matters.  

I may not understand my roommate / landlord, she apparently seems to understand that I needed to “talk something out.”  She tolerated my rant for ~15 minutes while I got it out of my system.  We high five-d as she left with the teenager she is babysitting (don’t ask) and I felt better.  Apparently she has the sense and decency to understand that this is how I operate and she was willing to hear me out for the short period of time before she left.

She understands that I “talk in circles” – yet seems to have the ability to put up with it on the occasions that I do.  More often than not, I don’t use her as a sounding board, because we are very different people – but for the times that I do, she is there for me and I appreciate it.  I’m still thoroughly confused, because the most recent suggestion of “taking a break” simply perplexes me.

“Taking a break” seems to be something that one would want to do after a series of arguments or disagreements.  While I thought everything was hunky-dory, it appears as though my “talking in circles” was something that simply could not be tolerated by my significant other.  

Previously, she asked me what my “love language” was.  This question popped up during one of our lengthy discussions.  I was incredibly stoked about this question, because it led me to believe that she had read, “The 5 Love Languages” by Gary Chapman.  When asked, she claimed that she did read it!  One of the many things that made me fall for her…but I digress (or do I?).   If you’re interested in what your love language is – you can take the Love Language test here.  

I paused the pomodoro to take the test and determined that my love language is:

Quality Time

In Quality Time, nothing says “I love you” like full, undivided attention. Being there for this type of person is critical, but really being there—with the TV off, fork and knife down, and all chores and tasks on standby—makes you feel truly special and loved. Distractions, postponed activities, or the failure to listen can be especially hurtful. Whether itʼs spending uninterrupted time talking with someone else or doing activities together, you deepen your connection with others through sharing time.

This test, while admittedly buzzed on the several shots of Patron I have consumed in addition to the Pabst Blue Ribbon (WINNING) is apparently spot on.  I trust my judgement more while slightly inebriated than when sober.  When we drink or use drugs, I firmly believe that those times are when our true colors really shine.  Quite frankly, I find it hard to trust people that have not danced with the devil in the pale moonlight.  Moreover, it is people that who have never taken part in the ceremony of inebriation that are often quick to criticize it.  

At any rate, back to the Love Languages and Quality Time…”Whether itʼs spending uninterrupted time talking with someone else or doing activities together, you deepen your connection with others through sharing time.”  Personally, this is spot on.  Of course there are a multitude of contributing variables to this equation (who said life was easy and that the answer lied within a 30 question quiz?).  But for those of us that are seeking – this test provides some insight into what it is that we are seeking.

As I write these words, I crack my neck and glance down at the timer – wondering when it will be time to chalk up this pomodoro and take my next break.  Somehow, 20 minutes have gone by and it seems like just an instant.  Is this not indicative of how life really works?  Now that I have “cheated” and looked at the timer, it will feel as though the buzzer has gone off and I’ll feel like I’ve written nothing of value, yet have probably churned out 1000-1500 words of which will likely be read by no one.

With that said, I’ll take a moment to scroll up through what I’ve written already and come to a concluding statement.  A quick scroll provided me with little insight other than the humor that I find in the fact that I actually have to check my pomodoro periodically to make sure that it’s still functioning.  

Often times, I sit down to write and begin writing and realize one of two things:

  1. I did not start the pomodoro timer in the first place
  2. I paused the pomodoro timer to “do something” like take the above quiz (and failed to restart it)

While either of these are valid excuses for checking the pomodoro timer, when I check it and realize that it has been running all along and there are only several minutes remaining….I find myself wondering if a real writer used something as silly as the Pomodoro technique to write.  I suspect they did not.  This is why I’m not a real writer.  I maintain this blog because I try to be a real writer.

I’m not sure what I am but I keep trying to be something that I’m not.
Perhaps I’m simply refining what I already was and currently am.
Pomodoro up.
Stay tuned.

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