“This is not what I want long term,” I sulk as I open my door that morning for my usual daily bread delivery.
“Say what?” Bakerman looks at me taken aback a little.
“Long term,” I emphasize looking him straight in the eyes now. “I want something else long term. I want to be a fit and healthy mom over 40 doing yoga not smoking fags. I want to look good and feel great. Be an example for my kids. Nobody smokes in little house on the prairie. I want to be famous, filthy rich and have an apartment by the sea to take my grandkids. Cigarettes and affaires with young camera men is not part of the picture. Maybe flirting with the camera but even that can be embarrassing at my age.”
“Ok,” Bakerman says coolly. “So set up a plan of how to get there.”
“Eat more of your muffins and bread?” And that’s when I suddenly realize this relationship might actually be toxic.
“Yes but swallow this time,” Bakerman says with a naughty twinkle in his eye.
“Haha. That’s bad!” I tussle my head of platina blond hair around a bit. “A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips. Time to stop being lazy. Stop making excuses. Stop self-sabotage. Time to just do it. Get a grip.”
“The hard part is seeing your value from a different angle,” Bakerman joins me on this conversation, clearly enjoying where it is leading. “How to leverage your skills in a different way that makes you better than most of your competition.”
“I know, you keep saying that,” I snap somewhat annoyed. This statement keeps annoying me as I can’t translate it into any tangible actions. “I am good at talking and explaining the tech stuff. Plus I have a diva side. My presentations are pretty good. I need to get more in shape with yoga. Daily yoga practice.”
“Ok good,” Bakerman nods. “Who is your market? How do you service them well at the same time?”
“Big corporations,” I think out loud. “But I like this new collaboration with the video training guys. The main man speaks at conferences all over the world. His ambition is world fame. I want that too. Am hoping this will be the start of a successful collaboration. But how to solidify it. How do I get these guys addicted to me so that it’s a success and they don’t want to see me walk. Well a bit like you… why do you always come to talk with me?”
“Who can tell?” Bakerman waves away my question mysteriously. “For your collaboration, what can you do for them so they can succeed with you without sex being involved.”
“Pfff without sex,” I blow a little annoyed. “In fact I should use this energy to be fabulous and creative. Sex would be nice though.”
“Well ok destroy your collaboration if you want to,” Bakerman throws his arms up in clear annoyance.
“6 months is a long time,” I argue. “No no no. No sex. Fine. No sex and no cigarettes.”
“Find someone to fuck that is outside of your circles,” Bakerman throws back the dirty at me.
“Like whoooo?” I am using my passive aggressive voice now. “Give an example.”
“Walk in a city, choose one and ask if he will fuck you,” Bakerman retorts. “It’s not hard.”
“Yuk!” I spit.
“Why yuk?” Bakerman looks at me defiantly.
“What a turn off!” And I curl my nose. “No seduction. Nothing. No thanks.”
“Friends with benefits?” Bakerman won’t let this go. “Who must seduce who?”
“It doesn’t matter as long as there is seduction and longing and enticement,” I whine. “I‘m no saint and not mother Theresa.”
“But that requires some sort of commitment,” Bakerman thinks out loud for me to hear.
“6 months is looooong,” I remind him of the ordeal I am going through. That all of us are going through in my little family life. “If it ever gets better. And lots of good looking guys. Pffff. I’ll be fine. Piece of cake.”
“Go on a dating site,” Bakerman continues to prod me where it hurts.
“Chocolate. Yoga. Compulsive shopping,” I sum up all of my addiction. “No I’ll be fine.”
“I knew a girl who hunted on dating sites,” Bakerman continues to rile me. “Lots of wonderful one night stands. No commitment no strings.”
“No I’m elevating myself out of the cesspool, remember?” I make a pointed statement. “Not going back there.”
“Redirect your desire then,” Bakerman offers me the cryptic advice again.
“Sex is a serious issue,” I tell him upset. “Especially when you’re not getting any.”
“Convert it into something else,” Bakerman says as if it’s all just a piece of cake. To Bakerman, I am sure everything is cake. “Yes sure. I understand.”
“Yes, convert it into success,” I sigh. “Make me look more desirable.”
“Yes.” Bakerman confirms.
“Do things.” I continue.
“Focus.” Bakerman builds further on my thoughts.
“I want the video training collaboration to be top quality long term successful and lucrative.” I am making a point of visualizing my success stories.
“Then don’t fuck any of them,” Bakerman warns me again.
“I won’t,” I sulk again.
“Very good,” Bakerman beams.
“Why is sex so bad?” I ask him, but get no response as he heads back to his van to continue his morning deliveries.
Deep sigh. I wish healing from anxiety and depression were as easy as slipping on a healing crystal bracelet.