I'll take the beef with a side dish of guilt

I cannot believe it has been a week since I have written anything. I cannot believe that with all that has happened in that time that I have not even had the urge to write something down. That is until last night.

Yesterday, everything shut down and all that was left was the overwhelming feeling of guilt. Why guilt? What do I have to feel guilty about? I struggle to remember and then I wonder perhaps it is just hormones, but the timing for that is all wrong. I have the same feeling deep in my chest that I have when I know a family Yautzite is coming up. The feeling of doom; the feeling that any second the knife wielding monster is going to jump out of the closet, the shark is going to attack, and somehow with all this guilt I feel like I had it coming.

Last night with all this on my mind I decided to beat it out of my system with a full on work out at the gym, but after 40 minutes on the elliptical trainer the guilt was in my muscles and I could not go any further. Hearty soup that I had made the night before was home waiting for me and the idea of something beefy and fulfilling inside me seemed to ease my joints. I walked out of the Dizengoff centre and made my way home trying to switch off the little voice… and then I realised that the little voice was not in my head, but was the voice of a stranger trying to get my attention.

I carried on walking and ignored his attempts to get my attention. I snuck a peak under my cap to my side and there he was… still trying to get my attention. I was now feeling stalked. I turned into my road and looked around to see him walk away. Phew! I then walked into the gateway of my apartment to the front door and was suddenly amazed to hear him behind me again. I swung around and was faced with this guy who asked me if I recognised him. “Who the hell are you?” He told me his name and asked for mine and began to move in closer. All the guilt, all the fear and all the shock I was feeling suddenly bubbled over and as tears welled up in my eyes I told him to leave me alone, that approaching a girl in that way was not nice and to Fuck off!

His face dropped and it was then I realised what beautiful eyes he had. But it was my eyes that would not stop… I ran up the stairs to my apartment, opened and bolted the door shut behind me and wept. It took the soothing words of Eli to make me stop crying and once again feel guilt for going crazy at a guy who was probably not an axe murderer or serial rapist, but just a guy who has bad enough taste to ask me for my number as I walked home sweaty and dishevelled from the gym. More guilt!

Today I feel much better. I have been focussed on work and the other distractions have just been fleeting. Plans for the weekend and Thursday night are beginning to take shape and I am now going to have to let go of a very fun Thursday night and blissful Shabbat with the family and move on to a new weekend. Perhaps this weekend will help me purge the guilt and move on to a new week, with new adventures and distractions to tempt me. Not that all the ladies are so happy… now that I am discovering that dipping into their pool once in a while can be a surprisingly fun experience. Bring it on girls… bring it on!