That Smile Can Bring Me to My Knees

Did you ever have a fairly specific item your perfect partner just HAD to have?

Mine was always about a smile. Specifically, my dream man was supposed to have the mischievous little boy grin. You know, the one where you know the wheels are turning and you’re wondering if it’s going to be a sweet gesture or a naughty one? Yeah, I always imagined my perfect man would have that smile.

Well, I realized I know a man who has it. I work with him right now, and every time, his face sort of lights up with it in the most adorable way. I am in love with his smile and the way his smile melts my heart.

But it’s not only the smile that has me thinking. He’s smart, in the understated way of being smart. As he put it in regards to his job, “I don’t make mistakes.”

And he doesn’t… Which is why he is smart. He plans it out. He calculates, he double checks, and he knows pretty much every possible way things should and should not work. I love that kind of man because that kind of man gives me room to be more spontaneous.

He’s extremely self-aware. One time, someone was trying to confuse another coworker and he went, “Come on. People already can’t understand me as it is.”

He was joking, but he was right. It has nothing to do with articulation. He is great at that. Volume is his downfall. His beautiful voice is always so quiet, and so, when you talk to him directly, in a noisy warehouse, you are hard-pressed to understand the words coming out of his mouth.

I also like the fact that I can read his face. I can see the exhaustion, the moodiness, the days when he isn’t feeling too bad. I also think there is so much more to him than this work persona, and I want to know the other parts.

Of course, maybe he is married or has a relationship. I’ve never seen him wear a ring or heard him talk about a significant other. But he could be an immensely private person. Even if every action he takes is practically that of a stereotypical bachelor.

I have four days to win this man over the way he is winning me. Maybe if someone hasn’t scooped him up, yet, I can take my shot.

If not, it just wasn’t meant to happen.

And I will miss that damn perfect smile of his.


Short Little Thing

I went to my old employer for the first time since I left in August. The ex-friend was there. I didn’t make an effort to approach him or anything.

I’ve realized how far I’ve come from this time last year, trying to get him to stop ignoring me. How healthy I am. How happy. How great it feels to have everything starting to fall into place the way it has needed to for a long time, now.

I’m doing great. I really am, and it is fucking fantastic.

Dear Sleep, You Can Show Up Any Time Now

The title sums up so much with me right now. It is about 1:30 A.M. when I am starting this entry, and while I am exhausted beyond fucking belief, I cannot seem to fall asleep.

There are some interesting things going on. I have an interview for a potential new job on Thursday. It is an office position, which I am not sure if I will enjoy it or not. I am in a much different mental space than I was the last time I took an office job.

Part of me is sad to leave the current job though. I don’t like the hours, and sometimes people get a bit condescending. But they do trust me with a lot of stuff now. However, I am getting paid less doing the same work as company employees. They get all sorts of benefits, and here I am, still waiting for the next hiring event 5 months after becoming eligible.

I mean, technically they had one in September, but then they withdrew it. The contract is 2 years and there’s no guarantee that I will be hired, no matter how good or bad I am (based on feedback, I will say I’m good at the job).

So I don’t necessarily want to leave, but I don’t want to keep waiting for something that isn’t guaranteed to happen by the end of 2 years. At this point, I would like something more stable than that. I have to do what’s best for me, right?

Speaking of, the guy is still not talking to me since I went at him about wanting less advice and more conversation. Maybe he is afraid to confront me. Maybe he is tired of me. I don’t want to have to keep starting this conversation for him to keep ignoring it. I’m too old for that shit.

So instead, I guess I’m in limbo. Or maybe I’m definitely single. I don’t know.

Well, I am going to attempt this sleep thing and hope I can get at least 5 or 6 hours tonight. Wish me luck.


I want to be fully honest about all my feelings. Sometimes I wish he would call or text, say he was sorry he was a dick. Tell me he did care and that it still bothers him that he shredded our closeness over rumors.

I do still love him and I miss the good about him. Of course, I’m still so sure of the fact that he is an asshole and he hurts me. I’m not delusional, after all. But sometimes, I do wish for that conversation I know I will never get because he would have to grow up. And that is something that I don’t think he is capable of doing.

I also found out I might have to throw myself out into the job hunting market again. While the words, “we’re not hiring permanent employees” never left the lips of the manager, I did hear the phrase, “We are at a good permanent to temp ratio.” To me, that is the same as, “We aren’t hiring.”

The beauty is that this job has given me the confidence to realize that while I might not be the fastest person, I am a very competent person. I absorb new information like a sponge and take pride in doing my job well, no matter what it is. So I am going to find a job that wants to nurture that fucking gift.

Also, I am not sure what is going with me and the man, but I really am starting to get the sense that we are about to steer towards an ending.

He is the “typical man who wants to give advice” all the time. And advice can be good… But it can also be really fucking insulting when you aren’t asking for it. For instance, when I am trying to tell him a story about my uncle calling the most recent mass shooting a “hoax,” this guy asks why I have to contradict him by questioning my uncle’s opinion. I tell him how uncle comments on an article I posted on Facebook and he then asks if it’s my article… Which is the exact way he gets when he is about to tell me what he would’ve done…

I finally told him I want to be trusted to do my own thing and not have to get unsolicited advice all the time. As nicely as I could, which in Kelsey speak means I didn’t swear, haha. Well, I probably did once or twice, but that’s a fucking accomplishment in Kelsey speak.

Well, he hasn’t said a word since, which means he probably doesn’t know what to say.

“I’m sorry, I never thought of it that way because I don’t mean it that way,” would’ve been a great start though. And I’d respect that. Seriously. But I am not going to ignore things that bother the hell out of me for the sake of peace. I’m too old for that shit and the ripe young age of 32… 🙂

Really though, these are small bumps in the road. I can live with this shit. I can move on and change them if necessary. It doesn’t scare me anymore. If anything, I’m hungry for the new adventure to see exactly what I can get out of this life.

So I will keep you all posted as life continues along this path.


Ten Years And a Few Hours

Ten years ago on February 14th, 2008, I decided to not attend my classes at Northern Illinois University. At 3:06 pm, I would have been on campus when a deranged young man removed a gun from his guitar case and started spraying bullets in a lecture hall.

I can tell you exactly what that lecture hall looked like because I had a class in that lecture hall. I can talk about how the seats were just uncomfortable enough that you couldn’t sleep in them. How I wasn’t in that hall when the shooting happened but I can imagine it in vivid detail because I was that close.

I can also tell you that sometimes, I still feel incredibly nervous around additional entrances of buildings. And how I wanted to cry in the middle of the work breakroom earlier tonight when I saw that a Florida high school joined this club on the tenth anniversary of my own alma mater’s horrific tragedy.

It breaks my heart to think that this keeps happening. There are now young men and women half my age coming to the conclusion I did at 22: Even school can’t keep me safe, no matter how many lockdown drills I participate in, no matter how prepared I am for the worst…

I don’t know what the solution is, but we are doing something wrong here in the U.S. After all, if we were doing things right, I wouldn’t have to be writing this.

Thoughts At 2 A.M.

I am proud of the things I have changed in the past year. I really, really am.

I thought I could never thrive in a workplace that wasn’t retail. Here I am, doing order picking and packing. Am I perfect at it? No. But I can manage to make the top 10 of order pickers almost every day and the top 5 at least once a week. I have only been doing this September… And I have made it this far.

I thought my life was in collapse without him. I really, really did. Yet, here I am, still standing, still working, still trying. He didn’t destroy me.

He made me better for hurting me. I liked the me that existed before him. She was ready for adventure and excitement. She wasn’t as scared.

But I am different than her. I am still hardened, perhaps in a good way. Yet the heart is there.

I think about my cousin once in a while. Mostly when I think about what my next adventure should be. I don’t want to take advantage of the fact that I’m still here. Life can be so fucking hard, but it is so damn precious.

I think I will leave it there.

Until the next time,


Drying Out Like a Prune, Man

I am learning that my job might be the biggest cause of my dry hair and skin. Well, doubling with the fact that it is now cold and dry up here in Illinois.

Needless to say, everything is either dry, chapped, cracking, or all of the above, really.

As I’ve mentioned the past couple of days, I have a remedy for the hair. Since it seems to be helping, I can safely say this: Thank you hair oils. Moroccan and coconut oil tend to be my favorites.

Now it’s on to the skin. I’m trying to lotion my hands nightly now. It’s sort of dual purpose because my hands are usually quite sore from the day. I never thought of how much grasping can tire out your poor hands. But boy, does it tire them out when you do it for 8 hours a day… minimum.

Oh, and I keep a tube of lip balm on me because my poor upper lip has been permanently chapped for the past two weeks or so. Like most everything in my life, I struggle to find that balance.

Oh and I’m running a humidifier. I’m so glad those fuckers exist because my poor dry nose would probably be in perpetual nosebleed mode if it weren’t for the joys of a humidifier.

It’s all a learning curve, though, and I am continually working at it. That’s all I can do, right?

In good news, though.. I will be able to go to bed before 2:00 A.M, so that will be nice.

Until tomorrow,