18 january – reading. #bloganuary

January 18:

What book is next on your reading list? 


I have 524 books on my goodreads want to read list so I guess I have a few to choose from. And while they are in no particular order whatsoever, I think I know what’s next because I just moved it from want to read to currently reading. But I haven’t actually started the reading part yet.

However, whenever the topic of books/reading comes up, I wonder if people will think less of me. I’ve decided that I don’t care, but I don’t like the way some people look down on those of us who like romance.

Anyway.

I mostly read steamy, sexy romance. And the covers look like my two guys that appear at the end of every one of my posts. In fact, Mr. Right (as opposed to Mr. Left who is also Mr. Right but that’s too confusing) is a book cover. I lost my mind when I saw him.

Anyway, yeah, the covers have shirtless guys. Or partially shirtless guys. Or guys in suits which my daughter says are just as bad as shirtless guys which I do not understand. She also doesn’t find the covers I drool over to be sexy as hell. I am seriously concerned that she was switched at birth. (Kidding—she looks just like me.)

I don’t think *all* of the guys look like Greek gods. Wait—I take that back. They all do. But I don’t lose my mind over all of them because I need to also love the face, not just the body. See? I’m a class act. I don’t just go for guys with abs. They have to have something more. And that something more is facial hair.

Seriously, though.

They need to have facial hair.

Seriously, though, really. Here’s the book I’m reading next. It was released about a week ago, so I guess it’s cutting the 524-book line right to first position.


The Summer Proposal by Vi Keeland

Laugh all you want. I won’t listen. I’l be lost in my lusty dreams.

Full disclosure: This is not one of my favorite covers. I’m not sure what it is about him, but I’m not drawn to him. I think he has a boy-next-door face, and that never seems to work for me. But look! He’s wearing a shirt! (Oh my god—so is the other guy up there on one of my favorite covers. See? I’m perfectly normal.)

   
My laptop is filled with gorgeous men like these. If only my lap was filled with gorgeous men like these. (Sorry.) (I admit it—I have a problem.)

p.s. — I’m just barely coming out of the reading rut I fell into a while back. At least I hope I’m coming out of it. I did read one book already this year. It was set at Christmas so I was a little late. And this one is summer so I’m a little early. Hopefully I’ll finish reading it by summer. Stupid reading rut. I used to read these books in a day or two. I was reading, like, three books a week. What happened to me??


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17 january – fucking super. #bloganuary

January 17:

What is a superpower you’d love to have? 


I’d like the ability to have a dollar for every time I’ve heard this dumbass, incredibly overused question. Seriously, why have I been asked this question approximately 2,235,876 times in my life? I don’t get the fascination with this question.

Ahem. Sorry.

You know what? If I can have a superpower, I’ll take it. Give it. Whatever it is. I don’t even care. I’ll take whatever I can get.

However, I’ll tell you what I really really want (if this even counts as a superpower).

The ability to time-travel.

There. I said it. I picked a stupid-ass superpower. Happy now? And do you know why I chose this? I’ll bet you do!

Yes. To go back in time and teach my younger self everything I now know that I wish I’d known then. No one has to know I’m there. It can be our secret. Me and… me. I can live in my younger self’s attic or something. And we can spend a couple of hours each night talking about making better decisions than I’d make with out my future self’s help.

I can debunk that “fairy tales aren’t real” crap.

I can stop my younger self from making choices I’ll later regret.

I can teach myself how to value myself and love myself and put myself first (not all the time, but not never either) because I believe it will be much easier to change my mindset as the younger version of me—before I become totally jaded and cynical.

I can steer myself away from those who I now know are bad for me.

And I can enjoy spending time with myself in a more peaceful environment (because I don’t find our current time period peaceful at all).

Maybe if I show my younger self that I’m a good person who is funny and smart and cool all on my own, I won’t end up spending years trying to find my worth in others. Or simply hating myself.

I know there’s no guarantee that I could help myself. God knows I’m struggling to help myself now. But if I had another person right now, even another me (god help us all), maybe it would be better. Because I feel completely alone now.

I don’t even have me.

   
Should I have said I want invisibility so I can gaze freely upon the sexy men of my choosing? Nah. Too predictable.

p.s. — No capes!


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16 january – lost cause. #bloganuary

January 16:

What is a cause you’re passionate about and why? 


I suppose it’s terrible that I don’t have an answer for this. I can think of a few causes that I should be passionate about, as they have touched my life. Things relating to mental health (me and other family), heart disease (my dad), brain cancer (my cousin), and suicide (a different cousin). I could probably think of others, too.

But I don’t have any money to donate, and I’m obviously not a people person, so having any active role in supporting these causes is out of the question.

I guess my answer is no, even though this is not a yes-or-no question.

Right now, the only cause I’m working on is myself. (But I wouldn’t say I’m “passionate” about it. I haven’t even gotten to the point where I think I’m worth it yet.) I feel selfish, but I shouldn’t feel that way, right? It’s important for me to be healthy and (god help me) happy. That’s a huge undertaking when you’re me.

I worry because I feel like I’m going downhill. I’ve been trying a few small things over the last few weeks (because I need to take small steps or I’ll really overwhelm myself). But I’m discouraged. I know it takes time. I know I can’t undo many many years of sadness, despair, negativity, and self-loathing overnight. Nothing pulls me up, though. Nothing ever changes.

I guess I haven’t found what works for me yet. I mean, it’s different for everyone, to some extent. What helps someone else feel better won’t necessarily work for me. If it were that simple, no one would be depressed. One person would find the solution, and we’d all follow that.

But I need a win. Something to keep me going. I haven’t had a win in a long time. I can’t even remember what that feels like.

I hope I’m not a lost cause.

   
Here’s a cause I support (but I don’t think it counts): Men. (And I feel passionate about it!)
Should I keep Mr. Perfect and Mr. Also Perfect, or should I start rotating in other Mr. Perfects? I worry that I’m neglecting others in my collection of hot guys. But would that be a betrayal? I wouldn’t be keeping my promise to have Mr. Sexy Beach Guy at the end of every post forever and ever. I always have the tough decisions. 

p.s. — I hate this prompt. It makes me feel like a bad person.


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15 january – life lesson. #bloganuary

January 15:

What is a life lesson you feel everyone can benefit from learning? 


Don’t give up the fairy tale. 

All my young life I was told fairy tales aren’t real. I was told I would never have my perfect love story. My prince. My true love. I am no princess, but I should have waited for my Flynn Rider. Perfect? No. After all, he was a theif. But he was perfect for her. And me. (Not that I am Rapunzel, but Flynn…)

He’s the perfect man in animated form. Hm. My guy on the bottom right (see end of post) could be a real-life Flynn, don’t you think? I’m sold. Wrap him up for me. I’ll take him to go. Then I will unwrap him and have very non-Disney-friendly fun with him.

Sorry. I’m back from weird animation fantasy land.

My point is: Don’t listen to them. They are wrong.

The perfect man for me is out there. I’ll just never have him because after being told there was no such thing for so fucking many years, I settled for what I had. I figured it was the best I could do. And there was no point waiting around for Mr. Right since everyone told me he didn’t exist.

So here I am with Mr. Okay-but-wrong-but-available-and-wanted-me. And, I’ll be blunt—life kinda sucks. I know now that I would be happier today if I’d waited for Mr. Right. And that includes happier alone, if I was still waiting.

I guess, in a way, I am waiting. But I can’t leave my current life. For a number of reasons I won’t detail right now, I’m trapped. Yeah—life kinda sucks.

Don’t give up on true love. Learn from my huge mistake.

   
Mr. Right—that’s my Flynn. Or Mr. Left. Oh, I don’t know.

p.s. — Did you know that when Disney was designing Flynn, they pulled as many employees as they could into a big conference room to discuss what the perfect man would look like? Clearly, I’m not alone with my preference for tall, dark-haired men with facial hair, abs, and a great sense of humor. And he can sing, too. 


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14 january – challenged. #bloganuary

January 14:

Write about a challenge you faced and overcame. 


I have a problem with the “overcame” part.

I am currently facing many challenges. Some are new, some I’ve been facing for years. But “overcame“? I don’t know that I’ve ever overcome a challenge. It seems that they’ve just been piling up on top of each other, and now I’ve got a mountain in front of me.

Just an FYI—I am not a mountain climber.

I will be honest with you, as I always am. I saw this prompt last night. I’ve been thinking about it ever since. And I still haven’t come up with anything. Maybe this is one of those “start small” or “take baby steps” sort of things. But I don’t want to write about something small. It doesn’t have to be a big thing. A medium thing would be fine. (My daughter would be laughing so hard after those last three sentences. See penis and balls jokes. But for that, I’d prefer if it was a big thing. Medium? Fuck that. I’m not settling.)

Sorry. Apparently it’s a challenge for me to stay focused on the matter at hand. (I swear, I’m not saying dirty-sounding things on purpose. It just keeps happening.)

Sorry again.

Because of my depression, it’s a challenge for me to get out of bed some days. Obviously I overcome that when it happens or I wouldn’t be sitting on my sofa right now. But that’s not big enough for me. (Now everything sounds dirty.)

Oh my god! I’ve found the perfect thing. (Oh my.)

Challenge: Writing this post.

How I overcame it: I wrote about trying to write it.

Oh! Another one:

Challenge: Stop acting like a twelve year old.

How I overcame it: Um. I guess I haven’t. I don’t think I’ll ever stop. It’s too much fun. (Um. Well, it is!)

I’m sorry for this whole post.

   
My next challenge: find one of these men and make him mine. I’ll let you know when I overcome this challenge. So, like, never.

p.s. — I *really* hope some of the future prompts are more inspiring. I’m sure it’s hard to come up with these (oh god), but I wish they were better.

p.p.s. — This post was one of those stream of consciousness/no editing posts. But that’s probably obvious.


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13 january – best day ever. #bloganuary

January 13:

What does your ideal day look like? 


Should I be realistic? Should this be a completely fabricated fantasy?

Hm.

With everything going on in my real life, I cannot have an ideal day. It’s literally impossible. I would have to be living in a different house in a different place with a whole different set of circumstances. And *I* would have to be different, too. So, realistically, I cannot have an ideal day. (Although today, this helped. Thanks, SM.)

I should just stop now because I’m not feeling very creative. But I will give realistic fantasy a shot. And by realistic fantasy, I mean complete fantasy, far removed from my real life, but with real-life elements. Like, I’m not a fairy or a wizard. I’m still human.


Unreal Realistic Fantasy.
I would wake up early because fantasy-me likes waking up early. I might even wrap myself in a cozy blanket and walk out onto my bedroom balcony to watch the sunrise while my hot-as-fuck husband sleeps a little longer. But he’ll notice I’m not in bed anymore, and he’ll get up to find me. He’ll stand behind me, wrap his arms around me, and kiss my head. I’ll smile and turn around to kiss him.

After some steamy hot morning sex, we would shower and go to work. (See? Realistic—fantasy-me has a job.) Fantasy-husband would be off to the city to his tech company that he started when he was 22. And I would go to the center of our quiet, beautifully peaceful town (I might even walk there since it’s a beautiful, sunny day). I’ll head to the bakery.

It’s not my bakery. I’m content to bake all day without the responsibility of running a business. But the owner is my fantasy-best friend. On fantasy-day, we laugh as she teases me about how dreamy-eyed I was the day I met my future fantasy-husband right there in the bakery. You see, he politely requested meeting the baking genius who made the perfect cinnamon rolls he tried (but usually failed) to resist on a daily basis. When I emerged from the kitchen to find fucking Adonis waiting to see me, I grew weak in the knees.


Fantasy-bakery is there. I promise. Use your imagination, people.

After a day in the bright sweet-smelling kitchen at the bakery, I head home, knowing my fantasy-husband won’t be home yet. He works so hard. And he’s so smart. And funny. And sweet, but never cheesy. And tall. And did I mention hot-as-fuck? But when I arrive at our beautiful two story craftsman home, he is there.

I find fantasy-husband in our beautiful kitchen cooking dinner. I offer to help, but he insists that I sit and relax while he cooks. I change into something comfy and curl up on the sofa with a book. I can smell dinner and it’s making me hungry. And I can see fantasy-husband and he’s making me hungry.

We have dinner. And we have dessert. Both kinds. And finally, we snuggle in bed and talk while I lovingly run my fingers over his chest and abs. I look up until I can see his eyes, and he smiles for me and tells me he loves me. I do the same. After a few goodnight kisses, I drift off to sleep in his arms.

The End.

   
Maybe one of these guys is fantasy-husband. Today, I’m feeling hot-as-fuck man number two. (Or I wish I was feeling him.)

p.s. — I am not having as much fun as I was hoping I would with these prompts. But that may be due to my real life falling apart.


©2022 what sandra thinks

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12 january – emoji. #bloganuary

bloganuary | what sandra thinks

January 12:

What emoji(s) do you like to use? 


   
I need emojis of these guys. Oh wait!     Yay! But if you’re not reading this on my actual blog (not the reader), it might not work for you. 😐

p.s. — Honestly, I tend to use non-emojis like these: : ) and : ( and : | and my daughter’s favorite: <3.


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11 january – live boldly. #bloganuary

bloganuary | what sandra thinks

January 11:

What does it mean to live boldly? 


Whatever it means, I’m sure as hell not doing it.

Hm. I guess it means living with confidence and fearlessness. (Fail.) It means handling anything that comes your way without falling apart. (Fail.) It means trying anything and everything you’ve ever wanted to try. (Fail.) It means creating and living a life you love. (Fail.)

I wish I was like that.

When I first read this prompt, I wondered how I could possibly answer it. And, to be honest, it made me feel like crap. I wish I could live that way. It felt like a slap in the face, especially considering what I’ve been going through lately and how desperately I want to make positive changes in my life.

Okay. Next…

   
I’d like to boldly climb these two like trees.

p.s. — I hate this one. It’s cheesy and corny and kind of cliché and I don’t like it. So there.


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