I haven’t been myself lately.
I keep going over the past three entries here, and I find them to be decidedly depressing. Almost bordering on what I would describe as “emo”. Which is not something to which I aspire in my writing, or my life in general.
People comment on how I’m always whistling or singing or humming to myself as I walk, and how I’m always smiling, a characteristic my colleague describes as though I “know some grand secret the rest of the world would die to learn”. I’m in good physical condition, and not unattractive (though, again, I still don’t see what women see in me). I have a great career that feels more like play than work. I travel and experience more of the world in a year than most people will experience in their entire lives. I don’t really have much to be unhappy about.
I am a happy person, goddammit. That really needs to come across more in my writing again. Not this… whatever the hell it is that’s been seeping into my blog for the past couple of weeks. I could have talked about all the free time I spent with Pretty Graduate Student during my separation from Ashley, about the publication I got accepted, about new classes I’m teaching at the university… but no, I chose to focus on the most depressing aspect of my current situation.
Not sure if that needs to change or not, but you have my apologies, all the same. Perhaps after tonight things will begin to take a more positive spin here at Only Partly Erotic.
By the way, for some reason, I really dig this title. If not myself, then who am I. (There’s a lesson to be had there, but for the life of me, I can’t see it.)