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In my Youtube recommended videos, was this.

I like watching Youtube while eating lunch and pushing cats away. I did see myself in a few things, but all of it could be chalked up to other ….uh, pathologies I have.

I’m not clean, neither in self or house. I clean really well maybe once a week.

I love watching drama unfold, but causing it myself, not so much. Though I do talk about my drama way too much.

I am ruled by my emotions, but I do feel for other people, and am aware that other people suffer far worse than me.

i can’t deal with criticism well at all. I generally fly into a rage alone if I feel someone close to me is being unfair. I don’t seek revenge.

I can feel myself wanting to be as good as someone else at things if not better, and I hate when I’m wrong or don’t know something. I hate admitting I’m wrong or in the wrong ever.

I do worry sometimes I don’t feel some things as much as normal. Some people never get over the death of close people. I honestly think I miss the feeling of being loved more than I miss my family, but they’ve all been dead for years now. I can remember finding a dead young kitten with a friend. She wept, but I was like ‘the kitten isn’t suffering.’ If the kitten was alive and crying I would feel it deeply, but as it was deceased, not much at all.

I think that is all. Oh, and I’m afraid of being abandoned, too.

Well, shit…

I privated a bunch of posts, but found this in my comments waiting for approval. I googled her name, and if she really is a therapist, she might not wish to come on as strongly as this. I’ve only had 3 critical comments in 12 years, no doubt because my blog is not widely read, but when they come, they hit. This isn’t the worst one. The worst was when someone said “I pity the people around you.” But this one, oh my… Maybe I am selfish and so off I don’t realize what a bitch I actually am. I really need to double down on trying to be selfless and try not to let my emotions get the better. If it is any consolation to anyone, I do dwell on my mistakes, and they repeat multiple times in my head. My mind could be far from my foibles, and suddenly, bam. I think this person was trying to be helpful, and yes, the person who said I might be a covert narcissist, is also herself mentally unstable, but… She’s not a narcissist, though, so she has that going for her!

Uber Eatsing

We’re still out delivering for Uber Eats almost every night. K. starts later usually, picks up a couple orders from ‘decent’ restaurants, then after 9 or 10 pm, picks me up for fast food. It’s quite a sociological study in the various economic strata of our town. We go to the ghettos and the ritziest places in town.

The other night, we were at Super 8. It was definitely a super shithole. The front desk gave us a look like “Are you hoes?” K. always dresses extremely well, no matter what, so I could see the mistake, but I always look like I came out of a homeless encampment or a 72 hour detox or something, so I guess I’d be an ‘econo-whore.’

“I’m not scared,” I said, but K. insisted on waiting downstairs. Once I got to the floor the customer was on, I was almost glad she could hear me scream. It smelled strongly of smoke, men spoke loudly in the rooms, and a few of the doors were a jar. I took this as a sign of waiting for illicit trade of some kind. One of the stains on the stairs I wondered if it was jizz and dark stains were all down the hall as though I lived there. The chap I was delivering to had his door a jar too, but I was rather weirded out by the whole ambiance of the place, dropped the food by the door, and hurried away.

Another time I’m at a Hilton owned property by the river where you aren’t getting in for less than 200 a night. I get distracted when someone calls me on my cell and I leave K’s delivery bag at the door. Luckily Hilton guy snatched his order from Checkers and left the bag.

I’m not afraid of any ‘Leave at Door’ situation, but won’t go for ones where we must meet. I’m always scared people will think I’m weird, gross, and a potential vector of disease. When K. decided to confront a woman trying to score a free meal by not giving her an Uber safety code, I did not want to go up there. K. has a temper that boils up at the slightest provocation and I know how she can get. I always feel like I’m going to die of embarrassment when she goes off on someone. She banged on the door and threatened to call the cops until the woman came out and gave her the code. If the woman had any thought of resisting her, she probably thought better of it when she saw the fires of hell’s fury in K’s eyes or heard her Brooklyn accent screaming at her through the door.

“Next time, I have to go confront someone, you should come with me,” she said, still fuming.

“I don’t like confronting people,” I replied.

” I care about YOUR safety,” K. countered This isn’t exactly fair, considering I was willing to deliver Taco Bell to Norman Bates that time, traipsed around in the dark after midnight trying to find an address without being mistaken for an intruder many times, and climbed flights of stairs so she wouldn’t have to, but OK I’ll come. I have to die of something sometime, and death by embarrassment probably isn’t the worst way to go. Ride or die.

Tonight, I had a few encounters with the Uber public. It couldn’t be helped. One fellow met me outside. I thanked him, called him sir, and all that, and he must not have found me too objectionable because he tipped K. $10.00 for a Taco Bell meal. Another guy tipped $5.00 and the last person also tipped . Maybe if I have enough interactions that don’t go south, I won’t be afraid to meet people at the door. I’m really scared they’ll find me disgusting though, especially since looking people in the eye and smiling is very difficult for me. I expect them all to think I’m creepy.