Doorman

Verklempt.

Word of the day.

Week. Month. Year.

My dating life. Verklempt.

My home life. Verklempt.

My work life. Verklempt.

The world. Totally Verklempt.

Let’s start with my dating life. Verklempt. At this point a vicious cycle of downloading dating apps. Deleting dating apps. They say insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. And yet…

Somewhat like the lottery. You’ve got to be in it to win it. Right? And like the lottery, what are the chances of winning? Not great. Yet, someone does win eventually.  Right?

At this moment in time my dating life is feeling more like a lottery scratch off card, with the win, if any, being another ticket. Oy. Still. What’s the option?

This past trip to NYC, I went on 4 dates with 4 different men. I dressed nicely, I showed up interested, with my best listening skills and an optimistic attitude. However, none of that seemed to make any difference. Not the pretty dress, not my best possible self, not even the botox. I ended up finding myself wishing I was young and naïve again. I certainly seemed to have an easier time back in the day. Naturally, without dating apps. Just living my life. It’s all a fond memory. Would a face lift even matter at this point?

Bachelor number one was an artist. I should have stopped right there. I didn’t listen to my therapist when she suggested maybe not date artists. I’m not sure if she said musicians too. However, I know that one, since I married two. Not at the same time mind you. But let’s just say, I’ve been down that road.  I think I learned my lesson there. Anyway, it wouldn’t have mattered, because I could tell Bachelor number one wasn’t even that into me. Ouch. It goes both ways, so I’ve learned to not take it personally, (even though I still do.)

Bachelor number 2, another artist. I know, I know. I’m just going to leave that on the table.

Bachelor number 3, I’m not quite sure exactly what he did, I think I was beginning to lose my listening skills by then, maybe something in the lawyer/consulting world working for a start-up company trying to save the climate, which I’m all for, though I’m also all for someone not getting up abruptly and saying they need to go home to eat dinner while I’m practically mid-sentence. I’m guessing he did me a favor in the long run.

And finally, Bachelor number 4, with the most potential of them all. A consultant who helps businesses stay out of trouble before they get into trouble. His method is teaching them his three rules of learning when to shut up. The first rule was obvious, when you don’t know the answer. I forgot the second and third rule, just like he forgot to follow up after the second date.

By then, I had exhausted all my beautiful outfits and positive energy. Frustrated, disappointed, Verklempt.

Oh…and then there is my home life. Verklempt. Eighteen years ago, I purchased a condo. Maybe not the best idea in the world. Hindsight is 20/20 x 100. I guess, like my dating life in my younger years, I haven’t always made the best decisions, skipping over the fine print in the excitement of it all. Now myriad in all the insane condo rules and regulations which play out like Who’s on First? I’m starting to think maybe it’s time to sell. However, even if I did sell, I’d need a Go Fund Me (anyone?) to afford my dream Park Ave. apartment with a doorman. As of today, condo living in Nashville…one big Verklempt.

My work life. Verklempt-ish.  I have too many jobs. In a weird way, it’s like a compliment. Oh…you can do this? Here’s a job. Oh, you’re good at that? Oh, here’s another job. And so, I keep saying yes. Juggling like five jobs now for twenty-two years…Verklempt. Nobody to blame here but my overly ambitious self.

Oh…and lest I forget for one minute…the state of the world. Do I even need to say it? Verklempt on steroids. I mean seriously, what the heck is going on out there? I used to feel hopeful, now I’m just downright scared.

Which is why I seriously need that doorman apartment on Park Ave. If it’s all going down, I want to do it in style. With a doorman. Seriously, all I’ve ever wanted was a doorman. I don’t know what it is about a doorman. They just make the world feel so cordial, so charming, so simple, so civil, so safe.

One timeless gesture, opening a door, a gesture at once chivalrous and full of imagined hope, that somehow, for a moment, I can walk through it all, leaving behind all of the anguish and Verklempt in the world.

Wouldn’t that be nice.