There's a new sherriff in town

I am such a disappointment to myself. I need to make some changes and take responsibility for a couple of things (which are related in an unfortunate way). Shall this be the manifesto of Duder? Perhaps. Oh: this isn't even relating to my fantastic weight gain, or the fact that I was hammered by 11pm last night. Yeah... first things first.
"Someone" once imparted a great quote to me: we pursue that which retreats from us. I have been doing that for some time, and it's embarrassing. This is shameful for me to admit, but I think it's step one of a rather painful internal twelve step program.
I've had conversations with Po on the subject, actually, whereby I wax indignant about all I have to offer and question my lack of attractiveness to specific individuals of the opposite sex. It has nothing to do with what I do or don't have to offer. I mean, I guess it would help if I were a millionaire supermodel, but I often harken back to this movie (forget the name) where a guy points to a billboard showing a gorgeous woman and says, "somewhere, there's a guy that's sick of her shit". And that's it. People are (or are becoming) sick of my shit. It doesn't matter who I am or what I offer if that's not what someone else wants or is seeking.
Get it? Get it? Good.
Anyways. I shall apologize in person, but the world slumbers on. My penance shall come later on in the day, if I don't succumb to a nap.
That's it. I feel stupid because I do stupid things. I can't always get what I want so I will now, at age thirty, suck it up like the rest of the world and get on with life.
Meeting Po for brunch in an hour. We'll talk about getting on with our lives. I bet a lot of people are doing it. Right now even.