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Zero Fuck Thirty

If you present me with a physical challenge, 9 times out of 10 I will give it a shot. Most of the time, I’ll meet that challenge and the rest of the time I’ll fail miserably while laughing so hysterically, you’d be convinced that I love failure (please see my love life if you’d like supporting evidence of my love of failure). Not trying something physical (unless it has a high probability of resulting in death) just doesn’t seem to be in my playbook. My favorite is when someone tells me that I can’t do something. When that happens, I’ll do it until I succeed. Then, I’ll do it a few more times just to be sure you’ve tasted every drop of my success. That’s what he said.

Sadly, the majority of struggles in my life aren’t physical ones, they’re emotional ones. I talk a lot about not giving many fucks, but that’s not really true. I just choose what it is I’m going to give a fuck about fairly carefully.  This results in an awful lot of things that won’t matter in 5 years being tossed to the “no fucks given” pile without a second thought.

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So when I find something that matters to me, I’m going to give all of the fucks necessary to hold on to it. I will give and give until I reach into my fuck tote and discover it is empty. Let me tell you, this is a terrible, terrible plan. Here’s why.

It’s very rare to find someone else who thinks a lot like I do. Now, we can be on the same page on a lot of different things, but when it comes right down to it, we’re not putting the same things into the same sorting piles. When that happens, it becomes a matter of who can hold on to their pile of fucks the longest. I tend to willingly hand all of mine over to the other person and so I’m left with no fucks at the end of the journey. In my mind, if I don’t give my all, then I’m really not trying.

What this leaves me with is a broken spirit and the belief that I am not falling in love ever again, nor will I ever be considered emotionally well-adjusted. Before you say that sounds pretty jaded and negative, let me assure you that I’ve tried, many many times. At 45, it has always turned out poorly and the fucks I have left to give in that area are few and far between.

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It has become apparent to me that the fucks I have to give are not infinite. You can’t continually plow through them time and time again, and expect them all to be replenished. So, you blow your load of fucks on this one shiny thing that you just have to have. It probably goes well for a while, and you dish out your allotted fucks over time. Sometimes, they’re replenished as you go. But if you’re using up more than you’re getting back, what you’re going to end up with is a sore, dry pussy, which always results in zero fucks. At that point, you’re just waiting for the next time he tries to sneak it in there, but lo and behold, you have no fucks left. THE END.

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When I was younger, my fuck stash lasted me about 4 years in a shitty relationship. My first few lasted about that long before they crashed and burned in a fiery glory where I believe I declared, “I just don’t give a fuck anymore.” Then, I got married. In total, we were together for 12 years. Somewhere in there, I obviously received more fucks than I gave away. That would likely be the first 4 1/2 years or so. Nothing else explains making it past that 4-year fuck giving threshold.
Shortly before my son was born, the fuck pile began dwindling and at some point, he stopped giving them back. I started throwing them out there everywhere I could because I didn’t want to fail. With that came a dissolution of anything that resembled love and by year #7 the only thing I gave a shit about was my kid. I stuck it out for 3 more years, thinking that he’d throw something in the fucking well, but no.

After that, it was a series of part time things that I tried giving various amounts of fucks to, but here I am almost 6 years after leaving my marriage and when I look in my bag, I’ve only got about 4 fucks in there for dating and intimate relationships. There’s a fairly unlimited supply for my child, but that’s fully replenished with every “I love you, Mom.” There are a ton of fucks for my friends who have always been there for me – you know – those who consistently make me feel like I’m important in some way to their lives. These people are giving every fuck I give right back to me and so it seems like I’m on a good roll there.

Four fucks. That’s all I’ve got for dating and relationships, people. So if I give you one, you better sure as shit give it right back. Otherwise, I’m not giving you another one and you’ll become “One Fuck Chuck”, and I have zero reservations about that.
By now you’ve probably figured out that I am currently out of my four relationship fucks. Until I get one or two back, I’m sure as hell not giving any more away. I’ve gotten used to being alone and doing it all my way. That’s what vibrators are for. And if you have a problem with that, please remember that I don’t give a fuck.

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