The Landfill of garbage and emotional baggage

This is a picture of me hiding in my armor in plain sight. My remodeling armor is me wearing Tom’s old sweatshirt covered in paint and grout and drywall mud from working on the two houses we did together and now my own. This is me hiding my butt and boobs. I did this on purpose. I can’t get away from attention, however, because I smile at people and somehow they sense I’m kind. I’m a magnet for attention when I don’t want it and I’ve always wished I wasn’t.

I’m a mess when it comes to identity right now, and what it means to still want to connect with someone. I don’t know what it means to be single, but I am actually single and not dating on purpose and not trying to find anyone.

I’m totally not ready for relationships, and I’m not lonely most of the time. But I can feel the lonely sinking in and I think it will rear its head and cause me to make dumb choices if I don’t keep beating the lonely down with a stick. How? I don’t know.

I love the landfill here. I have always had a thing for the dump. It goes back to childhood and having the opportunity to get to spend 1:1 time with my dad if I went with him to the hole in the ground that the Yaak called the dump.

I know I’m a earth conscious recycler, composter, reuse, low waste proselytizer. However, I can’t get over my love for the dump. Part of it is sentiment, and part of it is me knowing that I’m getting rid of disgusting things in a remodel. All of my dump runs revolve around remodels.

The landfill in Billings is FREE. There’s a bunch of issues with that, but being the penny pincher I am right now, I am appreciative.

It’s really pretty at the landfill. You can see the whole city below.

I’m remodeling myself. I want to be the person I want to be, the person I’m meant to be. She has shown up a little. But she still seems to find friends everywhere she goes. She wears me out. She’s so social. But she IS me. I’ve never been able to not make friends at the convenience store, in line, at Home Depot, at the dump, buying groceries, walking down the street. But I haven’t been single this long since 1987. I am now confused when people talk to me, wondering if they are being friendly or are flirting.

I was at Lowe’s yesterday pricing appliances with a salesman, and ran into one of the builders I’ve met in town through mutual friends.

I said “I’m flirting with appliances,” and he responded “I thought you were going to say ‘I’m flirting with the appliance guy.'” I turned beet red. I didn’t think I was flirting…but maybe I was somehow. The appliance guy said “don’t get my hopes up.”

I didn’t look cute in any way and had not even showered.

Oh my. I’m in trouble.

I’ll stay in my sweatshirt for a while.

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