My ideal guy is an axe wielding bearded mountain man who is too busy chopping wood to fill out an online dating profile.

But I didn’t grow up in the middle of nowhere, I grew up, well, next to nowhere. Right? I don’t know. I want to have people who say this sort of thing read We Took to the Woods. Still, might that be too romantic?

I tried to talk to the girls about quantifying how much they’ve dated, but we ended up spending most of the time discussing the rules for if you’d count someone or not. Ultimately, have I been dating too much? Relative to the first 25 years of my life, the last three has been, well, busy. From a perspective of Maslow, this is to be expected. I’m relatively successful in the other parts of my life. I’m seem past the conversations of this past spring regarding how I was waiting for a partner for certain things to change, so they could change together. Partially, reality is catching up with me. My father seems to get exponentially worse as time passes. People I’ve never met ask me to come and talk about what I do. I have more insurance policies than I care to keep track of. Are these the things by which to measure life? Or is it the discussions about what’s important. There was a time when I didn’t consider moving from Seattle, not because I was against the idea but just because I was caught up in life. Now it feels inevitable, only a matter of years. Will I finish up my current project in the new few years and move on, or will something else enticing keep me here rather than taking me back to the woods.

In the second chapter Fromm has begun to talk about how all anxiety stems from our aloneness. I spoke to M tonight about my problems sleeping last night, and stress came up. That’s too complicated to draw those lines, but sure, its a big empty bed, and I’ll play some Whiskey & Company to that.