Author: Rob Says

A man who loves and likes women.

Lack Of Sleep

Rob Says8 Comments

white bed linen

I’ve been sleeping terribly for some time now. The weekdays aren’t so bad, I pretty much force myself to go to bed and get to sleep, working and driving around in a large truck does wonders for that, but the weekends…

Like in the movie Fight Club, Edward Norton’s character is suffering from insomnia, and he says it’s like having “a copy of a copy of a copy.” It really does feel like that sometimes.

I can go to bed at 9:00pm only to lie there for hours on end. 2 or 3 o’clock rolls around and before you know it, either the alarm goes off and it’s time to get up, or the sun is coming up and it’s time to get up.

I sometimes nap a little bit throughout the day, at least on the weekends, maybe 15 minutes here and 20 minutes there, but I wake up feeling mostly like I did when I fell asleep. Like a copy of a copy of a copy.

Sometimes the day goes by quickly, and it’s like, “Damn! Where did the time go?” Other times the day can’t get over soon enough. Today, at least at the time that I’m writing this, can’t end soon enough.

On a positive note, my focus is slowly, but purposefully, coming back. I’m actually able to read several pages, if not an entire chapter in whatever book I’m reading at the moment. That’s a significant improvement over the last few months where doing a paragraph or even a few sentences was a major accomplishment.

I’m still too easily distracted though, much more than I used to be. Being easily distracted is almost, or maybe even worse, than having insomnia. At least for me. Not being able to sleep, but being able to focus? Man, I can get some shit done. Not being able to sleep and also not having any focus? That’s the worst. Too tired to focus, too distracted to retain anything, and exhausted all at the same time.

A copy of a copy of a copy.

Anyways this will pass. I’m sure it will. Things have been gradually getting better, so I can’t imagine that this “distractedness” and my insomnia can last for too much longer. God I hope not.

On another positive note, my lack of sleep has pretty much given me a lot of time to do other things, like writing. It’s soothing to hear the sound of the keyboard clicking, and it’s almost meditative to put my thoughts to “paper” so to speak.

It definitely allows me to create more content. Although I question the quality of said content from time to time. Even this post itself, I question the quality of it. Is it really something that you, Dear Reader, are going to get some value from? Only you can decide that I guess.

I even wonder if this particular post will see the light of day. You have no idea how many things I have started to write about, only to send to the trash pile, wiped into oblivion. Or sometimes I complete something, only to have it sit in limbo in a draft state indefinitely. Sometimes the post is worthwhile, but I haven’t finished it yet, other times it’s actually finished, but I’m ambivalent about sharing it with the world.

Does it really need to see the light of day? Just because I wrote it doesn’t mean everyone needs or wants to see it I guess.

I’m getting sleepy now. I have learned to listen to that when it happens, so I’m calling it quits for this post.

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Single Mother’s Raising Sons

Rob Says2 Comments
woman holding baby while sitting on fur bean bag
Ain’t It Cute? Awww…

So the other day at work, I got a helper, we’ll call him “John,” who went out on route with me.

While we were out doing our thing, and kicking ass at it I might add, having an extra set of hands will do wonders for productivity and efficiency, John and I got to bullshitting…

John is 30 years old. He’s on his second marriage, and between him and his wife, they have six children. (Talk about the Brady Bunch.)

Anyways, John’s marriage is decaying. He’s thinking of leaving her.

There’s trust issues on both sides. Apparently he started “dating” a while back when they separated. Then they got back together. Now she’s about to branch swing.

Branch swinging for those that don’t know, is when a woman is finding another man and is getting ready to jump out of her current relationship.

I know she’s branch swinging because John told me about it. She’s not being sly or coy. She’s told him that she’s met some dude and he’s “really cute,” and he “really understands her.” But they are “just friends.”

For now at least.

John’s marriage is a shit show to say the least.

His wife went to court for selling alcohol to a minor at her job. She got caught in a sting and one of the results of her poor decisions was that she lost her job, and now she’s facing fines from the court. From what he told me, she has a “hard time” holding down a job.

She knows how to push his buttons and push them she does. He knows her’s as well.

Like I said, it’s a shit show.

The biggest red flag that I heard about though, is that she is a drug addict.

She injects meth.

Meth is probably the worst of the bad news when it comes to drugs. At least in my opinion. And injecting it?
Whoa.

I don’t know what the street lingo is these days for injecting drugs, but when I was younger, it was called “Mainlining.”

Mainlining is a huge deal. Injecting drugs gives an instantaneous hit, whatever that hit is. It goes straight into the bloodstream and straight to the heart and brain. Whether it’s a stimulant, like meth, or a depressant like heroin, it’s effects when injected are immediate. It’s worse than snorting or smoking a drug.

If you or someone you know is injecting drugs, you have serious problems ahead of you if not already.

Seriously, it doesn’t get worse than this.

John grew up with an absentee father. His Dad was working all the time or wasn’t very attentive and active with his children. So his mother became his role model so to speak.

He’s a good looking guy, he takes care of himself and is really physically fit. He’s easy on the eyes for the ladies, I know, because I watched him and them interact throughout the day. I would even say John has decent game.

John is also a White Knight to a degree and is definitely a Captain Save a Ho. He’s trying to save his wife from herself. I get it. I would want to help my wife too. Problem is, she doesn’t want to be saved. She enjoys her lifestyle and her habits, and he enables her.

John told me that the only person he has ever feared in his life is his mother. I don’t really have the words.

He still fears her. To me, it explains a lot of his behavior towards his wife and to women in general. He’s looking for that approval from them. He basically is trying to do “the right thing.” To be a “good boy.”

Because he’s looking for approval from the women in his life, he’s made his life about the women in it. They are the Mission. They come first. They are his focus.

Do you guys do that?

Do you make the women in your life your central focus?

Do you seek their approval in who you are and what you do?

Do you let them define what a “good man” is for you?

Do you let them define your masculinity?

A long time ago, I did.

And it got me nothing but confusion, heartache, sorrow, and bitterness.

It’s a dark road going that way, letting a woman define and decide who and what you are.

If you let them define your masculinity for you, it will be to their betterment, not yours.

Our society is so ingrained with this way of thinking that it has become the norm. It’s part of why boys and men today are so feminine. It’s also why both men and women are so confused and unhappy with each other as a whole, as genders.

Women need to stop defining what masculinity is for men.

For our part as men, we need to stop listening to women telling us how to be men. We need to stop sitting at their knees.

That’s what father’s are for, ideally. If not your father, then another man. Not your mother. Not your sister(s), not your girlfriend, and not your wife.

Men define masculinity. We know best about that because we are masculine, we are men.

There’s a saying going around the interwebs, and it’s something like this:

Don’t ask a fish how to fish, ask a fisherman how to fish.

Don’t ask a woman how to be a man, or what makes a “good man.” She doesn’t know, she’s not a man. Oh don’t get me wrong, she’ll have all sorts of ideas of what she thinks makes a good man, but she has her head up her ass and is up in the night about this one. She truly has no clue.

Don’t ask a woman how to “pick up” or seduce women. She doesn’t know that either. You want to know about picking up women, ask guys who pick up women and are really good at it.

In my family, there was one member that has seen it and done it all. They had an opinion on everything and how you should do “it”, whatever that was. Can you guess who that family member was?

It was my mother.

I love her dearly, but goddamn, the woman needed to shut her gob sometimes.

I’ve learned if I want to truly get things done, especially quickly and efficiently, I talk to my father. His advice to me has been practical and priceless. He doesn’t say much, he just does. He also keeps the “you should’s” and “you ought to’s” to a minimum.

To wrap it up, I leave you with this:

Women aren’t perfect, I love that they try. My mom did the best she could with the limited knowledge and skills that she had. I’m sure it’s the same for your mother’s as well. Don’t be dicks to them.

But stop listening to what women think a man should be. Stop letting them define your masculinity for you. Stop seeking their approval. You can virtue signal all you want to them, they still won’t fuck you.

We men don’t have to answer to women. We can have our own ideas about what is being a man and being masculine without having to submit or consult with women. You do not need their approval.

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Your Personality Isn’t You.

Rob Says3 Comments
aries dice in gray scale photography
Might as well roll a die to determine your personality.

I used to be a big believer in “personality tests.” Myers-Briggs, color preferences, the ennegram, even the oldest personality test of them all, astrological signs, I used to give most if not all of them some weight, some preference. Some sort of “truth.”

The truth is, your personality changes over time. You aren’t the same person you were twenty years ago. You may not even be the same person you were five years ago. And to me, that’s a good thing. I wouldn’t want to be the same Man that I was twenty years ago, or even five years ago for that matter. I’ve grown, I’ve changed, I’ve gained wisdom. I hope you have too.

What is our fascination with personality tests? Why are we so eager to pigeon-hole ourselves and others into categories and “types?” I understand that a lot of it is our wanting to create order out of chaos, to feel “safe and certain” in our ascertations of others. To feel confident in our “diagnosing” others. To make sense of our world.

But stop and think about this for a moment:

When you are eager to take the next “personality test,” what are you really doing?

You are catering to your own ego and possible narcissism for one. You are wanting to be validated, heard, and understood. You are hoping and wanting to know that someone, anyone, “gets you.” You are wanting to validate your own conceptions of who you are. To prove it to yourself that you are who you think you are, because somebody wrote about it and it “fits” you.

Another thing you are doing is this:

You are looking to someone else to define you. Even to judge you. You are looking to someone else to tell you who you are, because you don’t know who you are. You are looking for an “expert” to tell you about you. Because you don’t know, or you’re not sure. Or even the possibility that you don’t like who you are. You are looking for something outside of you to tell you who you are and why you do the things you do. Whatever happened to you being the best judge of you?

“Oh! I’m an ESTJ! That’s why I do the shit I do! Oh! I’m a Virgo! That’s why I do the shit I do!”

Let’s cut to the chase okay?

You do the things you do because you want to. You do the things you do because they are what you know. You do the things you do because someone else taught you this is what you should do. You do the things you do for approval and validation, to fit in. But at the end of the day, you do them because you want to. Those things serve you somehow.

You take the personality tests because you want to. It’s easier to blame the stars, your type, or your sun sign for your behavior. It’s easier to shift the blame for your decisions instead of owning it and doing something different, because different is scary, and sometimes different is hard.

It’s amazing to me how quickly we will pick up a book, look up our horoscopes, or fill out some multiple choice test and let someone else decide who we are. Have you ever stopped and asked yourself: “Did the person who wrote this book, wrote this horoscope, created this test, did they just make this stuff up? Did they just pull shit out of their ass to make a buck?”

Maybe they did, maybe they didn’t. Either way their answers as to who you are, are based on their experiences and knowledge, not yours. “Know thyself” indeed.

Think about it another way:

Every day you get up and go do whatever it is that you’re going to do, whether it’s work, raising a family, going to school, whatever. And every person you meet, every person you come into contact with, has a different perception of who you are. Your friends, your family, your co-workers, your boss, all of them have a different perception of who you are. They may be able to agree on certain physical traits like your height, your eye and hair color, they may get into the ballpark when it comes to your age and your weight. They will probably be in agreement when it comes to the clothes you wear and what those articles of clothing signify, but they don’t really know you. Except for what you show them and what you tell them. And you created that. All of it.

You are a different person when you are in front of your family. You are a different person in front of your boss. You are a different person in front of your friends. You are a different person in front of your lover. If that is the case, why are we so eager to have someone else tell us who we are, to define us for us? Why do we do that? We are we so eager and willing to hand over our concept of identity to someone else?

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