BABIES AREN’T ZEN

[EDITOR'S NOTE: This post contains Bad Words. Turn back now.]

In case my last post left it somewhat unclear (ha!), I recently had my first substantive interactions with a bona fide womanizing assface. I didn’t expect to hear from him again and was surprised to get a text from him tonight, saying he needed some more Woody Allen in his life [insert snide comment here]. Responses I considered:

1. [piece together a string of the F-word, construed as various parts of speech]
2. Sorry, you and your tiny dick will have to find an orifice elsewhere.
3. I don’t sleep with womanizing cretins.
4. ASSHOLE

I ultimately decided that the best way to have the last word was to have no word, and leave him hanging as he did to me. He doesn’t deserve to know he so much as made me angry.

But thank you, Aforementioned Assface, for inciting that very emotion. The anger I felt toward you this week has made me more driven and productive than I’ve been in months. I went running. I applied for high-paying jobs in my desired field. I rocked out on the bass. And the absence of respect you had for me made me respect myself that much more. I refuse to let you (or anyone) treat me that way again. So thanks for making me raise my standards.