December is moving by at an even faster clip that November did.I'm continuing on the diet and am losing half to two pounds a week. I started in the low 270's and this past Friday I busted into the 250's [259.5 and counting]. I'm quite happy about the continual slow progress that I initially groused about. I know others who have lost vast amounts more quickly, but I figure it is much healthier to keep on the slow loss. I hope to begin an exercise program soon, probably water aerobics. I've started walking the stairs at work more than the elevator, parking further away in the parking lot, that sort of thing. As deconditioned as I am I'm not rushing anything. I spoke too soon with not wanting to jinx the nice start that the lady I only identified as 'O' and I had gotten off to, as I got dear johned by email a couple of days ago. We had a date for last Saturday evening and she showed up but told me that she had to go off on her own to sort out her own thoughts and issues. I was fairly hurt at that point, one more rejection stacked onto the others that have accumulated over 40 years of an active social and sexual life. The email a couple of days ago mentioned nothing about me, or anything that I could correct, but just rather that she was having to make the decision based on how she felt about herself. I can't fault someone for making what appears to be the right decision for themselves, but I do truly regret it. It wasn't losing the sex - although that had been grand. I do have fuckbuddies, and in fact that same Saturday night a couple of friends who saw me moping around in a gray cloud of self pity helped me feel better about myself right on the spot. One lady asked me to fist her after her boyfriend tied her down, which was a lot of fun and exertion, and then later another lady asked me to put a bunch of needles in her breast and she then went on to give me the best head I've had in quite a few years. Fuckbuddies are great and 99% of my life I live only with them. No, I'd allowed myself to hope that the person to person spark O and I had both felt might lead to more, but it isn't to be. That slut you see working to overslut himself the next little while will be me, seeking the comfort and reassurances of the flesh of friends, quietly doing my own Kubler-Ross processing I'll try to post again this weekend if I can. Jane and I are having lunch tomorrow at Mae's, which will be fun. It's a full weekend of friends and parties and the Vendor Fair at the Spot and busybusy. Despite the hiccups, life continues good.
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