the covid effect

it’s what happens in any perceived crisis.

you distance yourself from some people and cling to others.

i’ve got ten guys blowing up my phone this week and feel like a foster mother with only enough time to hand out pb&j sandwiches on stale bread. i didn’t give any of them my phone number and not a one of them could give a rats ass about me so long as they get fed.

on the other spectrum i’ve got a handful of men that have reverted to calling me by my first name instead of words like sweetheart or whatever else they once felt comfortable enough to say. fuck if they’re not giving me once a princess never a princess flashbacks.

i’m not sure if i elicit warmth or coldness, if my blunt style of communication under pressure really fucks people up, or if even in silence all would shake out the same. it’s only tuesday but i’m angry enough for the rest of the week, working not to feel hurt by either side of the flippin’ coin, and convincing myself through taking on more work i have zero time for that nope, it’s not about me, not about me…

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