You guys. I’m finally back down to the weight I told myself I would feel comfortable getting naked in front of somebody. I can also feel that my muscle tone is coming back as I’m using heavier weights than I’ve ever used before and have added the 4:30am classes twice a week. This is huge…or maybe the opposite of huge. I’m kind of excited about this.
Yet I have no prospects to get naked in front of.
Now. The Beagle texted me a few times this week as if nothing had happened with his dick (see previous entry), and The Officer and I had a date that I canceled because I was too beat from prepping for my big presentation this week. I’ve been swiping around on Bumble here and there.
But speaking of fuckable, I hate to even bring this up, but it’s glaring. Now, everyone and their brother has been thanked, congratulated and kudo’d for the project that I spent the last several months developing. Literally EV.RY.ONE. but me. Including the packaging guy (???) and I’m assuming the fucking janitor. Not one. NOT ONE single bit of recognition of the fact that I spent my days, nights and weekends painstakingly putting this together. It’s bizarre and confusing. It’s as if I was not even HERE while a fairy came in a did all the work. The top brass is giving Golden Boy ALLLLL the credit and he is accepting it without even acknowledging where this fucking line even came from! I want to cry and throw things, but I also want to walk away. Clearly, someone is angling for me to leave. I’m pretty sure who that is.
I’ve never experienced anything like this! What is happening??
Fuck.
xox,
GS
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