Holly Clay and the No Good, Very Bad Day

Long story short, I am losing at life. 

I just started a contract gig and I'm not getting the hang of it while everyone else is being recognized for doing an amazing job. 

I have a toothache that is making my whole jaw warm. 

I had a health emergency and could not reach my doctor. I had to talk to another doctor who, although nice, is not familiar with me or my issues. I'm sure my actual doctor will tell me something completely different when I talk to her in the morning. 

My niece had multiple tantrums that felt like they were taking place on my brain. 

I feel like my whole household is annoyed with me for needing some space today. 

I called one of my favorite people and he didn't answer the phone which made me feel alone, ignored, and stupid. 

At the end of it all, all I could do was lay down and cry. Again. Some more. 

I want to talk to someone but I don't care to spread my misery so I think that I will listen to some Toni Braxton and try to regulate my anxiety. Pray. Nibble on dinner. 

Nights are my favorite but they are also hard. It is when all my life choices come to haunt me. It is also when it becomes even clearer that I will always be by myself and have to tread the merky waters of my life in solitude forever. 

Getting emotional. I think it's time for Toni. 

Skeez Louise pt. 1: The Story of Holls and OnlyFans

Tomorrow, I have my medical procedure and I am really, really, really scared. I think that this may be the most scared that I have been, ever. I have told my friends this, and they have given me the typical "Oh Holly is being dramatic again," response, which has made my fear and anxiety skyrocket to new heights. And I find that when I am scared, I default to my old reliable coping mechanisms: eating nonsense and looking at hunky guys on Instagram. So, the night before last, as I ate some gummy bears, I allowed myself to go down an Instahole, looking at every post of a man that we will call DreadHunk. Child...when I tell you that I was invested! If you have never seen him on IG, you have seen men like him. He's a tall, dark-skinned man with dreadlocks that likes to cook and clean his apartment baby oiled and wearing a towel. He is a total tease, and just like the thurstbots in his comments, I needed to see more. So, high on fructose corn syrup and horny, I went to his linktr.ee page and found that he has an OnlyFans page. I know. The story only gets worse from here. 

I am aware that I may be the only person on earth that had never been on OnlyFans. As the good Christian I tell myself that I am, I recognized this site for what it is: the devil's playground. Yet the other night, chewing a fist full of gummy bears and hypnotized by DreadHunk, this didn't seem to matter. Guys, I was saturated in adrenalin. Like a skeez, I sat in my room in the dark, my face illuminated by my cellphone light, trying to start an account. I comfortably slid into the sexual underbelly, putting my card information in, literally thirsty to see DreadHunk's content. Long story short, my phone glitched, the info didn't go through, I got spooked and deleted my account. I had an OnlyFans profile for 15 minutes. Scared at how far I had slid down the pike, I put my phone down and went to sleep. I was done with the nasty stuff...until the next day, which was yesterday. 

Yesterday, my anxiety was even higher than it was the day before, which I didn't think was possible. I cried on and off all day, and I could feel God telling me to turn to Him for comfort and relief. Yet, after coming across DreadHunk's latest post, I slid on sin right back to his OnlyFans. This time I subscribed, paid, and went to DreadHunk's page. Confused, I looked at his uploaded content. It was even more PG than what was on IG. What? I asked myself. Then I looked at the comments on his profile of women letting him know that they had sent him a "tip" and were excited to receive their pic or video or whatever. A tip? A. Tip? A tip? A TIP?! I swear, audacity must be on sale someplace! Have single women driven to OnlyFans for action not already paid the price?! For the second time in less than 48 hours, I deleted my account. As a punishment, I now have to wear the scarlet letter of OnlyFans being on my banking statement. 

So, I got duped. Looking back on OnlyFans, I figured I got what I got for being gross and thirsty. It was then that I saw Chocolate Chuck's page and realized that I am not thirsty. I am, in fact, dehydrated. 

The Last Single VDay

Yet another Valentine's Day is coming up and I don't have a valentine. In all honesty, I haven't had a good V-Day since I was 19. At 19, I don't know what I would have said if someone would have told me that that would be my first and last Valentine's Day ever. How pathetic! This is truly the stuff that depressing romantic comedies are made of.
I guess the good news is that I am not alone this year. Even some of my smart, gorgeous, professional girlfriends will be spending February 14 with Mr. Netflix. And they are all saying that it's alright, that they are actually looking forward to a good, quiet evening alone. I'd believe them if they weren't saying this through clenched teeth and tears. Even my aunt asked me if she should send herself flowers to her job. I told her that that was a stern no, but I may take it back. Someone should get roses on the most romantic day of the year, even if said person has to mail them to herself.
You would have laughed at me if you would have seen me this weekend going to my writer's group. I was dressed as if I had a Valentine's Day date that very afternoon with Idris Elba! I mean, I looked gorgeous! But I wasn't being hot just to be hot: I was trying to get Ryan's attention. I got there too late to sit next to him, so I was literally trying to mentally and spiritually connect with him during the meeting. The prayers went over his head. He did, like everyone else, comment on how cute I looked. That made me smile for a second until I realized that his compliments did nothing to change my state of valentinelessness.
Why is this so hard? I'm not looking for love, just a free meal and a cheek kiss! For some reason, I want to blame social media.
Next year I will be 35 and I will have a V-Day date even if it kills me. If the past years are a prediction of the future, I better get my final affairs in order.

Friendsgiving

Amanda invited me to a Friendsgiving cookoff that the single's ministry from our church was putting on. There was going to be tons of food and fun so, of course, I was excited to go. Now I know, I know. The last time the single's ministry had an event I was desperately overdressed and disappointed. But that is only because I had expected to become engaged while I was there.
I had never been to a Friendsgiving before, but this one was awesome! The house was packed with young singles eating and having a good time. There was even a high-stakes game of Jeopardy. I was surrounded by people who were enjoying being single.
Years of having watched a trillion of my friends get married, of taking myself on Valentine's Day dates, and of attending baby showers where you have to play that stupid toilet paper game had me convinced that being single was an affliction. You know, like a lazy eye or a clubbed foot. And the only cure for this affliction was to try to find someone to love you as fast as possible. It's kind of like a game. The winners get the possibility of a life of bliss with a mate and the losers, like myself, get to plan their own birthday parties and tape pictures of Idris Alba on their vision boards. While watching everyone mix and mingle it dawned on me: maybe being single isn't a terminal illness. Maybe it's just the life you live while you're waiting for love or while you are in between romances.
I have decided to adopt this way of thinking, especially as the holiday season rolls around. Nothing reminds you you're alone like wrapping Christmas gifts to yourself. But maybe next year there will be a boy toy sitting next to me, listening to me complain about the ever-increasing price of wrapping paper. Oh, to finally be in love.