Which of the following constitutes a more severe limitation upon personal freedom:
1) Ongoing pandemic for which you have been officially deemed high risk potential.
2) Full-time employment by other.
3) Live-in relationship with grouchy old man.
In my experience, the ranking is 2/3/1. I am currently locked up by myself in a micro-motel room, only emerging to fetch groceries at masked distance, or do slow perambulation of park, and I am quite happy. Nobody bothering me! I have my new fancy high-tech book scanning machine, and I am teaching myself Adobe InDesign, and I am reading several books, and I am drawing with colored pencils, and I am watching silly holiday movies, and I am eating big salads and cookies.
Unfortunately, I am fretting a bit about whether the grouchy old man might do something dire because I dumped him, but I have to remind myself that I don't owe anybody the benefit of my company, especially if they can't even be civil. I also made the mistake of talking to my terrible mother. She, of course, suggested that maybe I ought to take The Cowboy up on his break-up inspired offer and lose 40 lbs and marry him for financial security. Flashback 40 years: I am 15 wearing a bright yellow bikini, and my generally extremely neglectful bi-polar mother takes notice and says "You've got a cute figure. You just need to firm up a bit. And, remember a man won't buy the cow if he can get the milk for free."
Luckily, I also spoke with my delightful sisters and my wonderful daughter, and the summary of their comments would be something like "What a dick! Why don't you date somebody nice for a change?" This caused me to reflect upon the subtle variation in disparagement offered by slang synonyms for male genitalia. "Dick" actually works pretty well for The Cowboy, but my first husband was much more of a "prick" and my second "husband" was more of a "cock." My son referred to him as "total douchebag", but I think that was unwarranted.
Anyways, I'm actually more concerned by the extent to which my feelings were not hurt by offer of marriage contingent upon weight loss. My soul has grown so old as of late. Well, actually that's not entirely true. My fun and freedom loving juvenile masculine energy is on the upswing. I am just completely bereft of girlish energy. There is nothing left in me that hopes to twirl around like Natalie Wood. Whatever glands once held the chemicals that caused me to blush and/or swoon have dried up and shriveled. I have even lost my taste for Jane Austen.
However, I do still have it in my mind and/or bucket list that I would like to finally achieve or somehow make happen my Ideal Woods and Water Sex Fantasy. The death of potential for romance in my soul need not preclude this fantasy, because my partner only needs to provide idealized masculine sexual energy as epitomized by an old growth tree and/or a wolf and/or rushing river rapids. You would think that in the age of the internet, when you can pretty much order up sex like a pizza, this would not be that tough. My experience suggest otherwise. Also, there's my own ante up to consider. I'm not willing or wanting to lose 40 lbs in order to achieve financial security within the confines of a basically sexless marriage of convenience, but I believe that I am willing/wanting to lose 40 lbs in order to achieve my Ideal Woods and Water Sex Fantasy. I mean, maybe I could make it work without losing 40 lbs, but I am either going to have to lose some weight or round up a chubby-lover who is super-fit himself. Apparently, there are apps for that, but admittedly the appearance of my midsection is currently in violation of my own idealized sex fantasy aesthetic, which does not include the adjective "blobby."
Even though I really don't have a clue what I'm doing, my stock market investments have been doing very well lately, so my temporarily greatly increased expense level hasn't yet nicked my semi-retirement fund roll. However, I do not count on this continuing to be the case, so my tentative plan is getting the best deals I can on clean, safe, solo lodging until I am fully vaccinated, and then moving into an anarchist co-op that only charges $150/month and needs help with their garden. So long as I keep my combined transportation/shelter expenses at less than approximately $400/month on average, I will be gold.