QLPC

I am so bored, yet restless at the same time. As always, I am at a transition phase in my career. I have become familiar with it now; I seem to be jumping from one transition to another, always with a goal in sight but never quite reaching it. I don't mind the wait as much as I used to now. Instead, I focus on what's within reach. And that is my health.

I am happy to report that my CD4 count is now within range of an immunocompetent person. I also have normal chest findings as per my X-ray result last week. I have maintained my weight which is actually two or three pounds higher than the ideal for my height, if Wii-Fit is to be believed. I have not missed a single dose of my antiretroviral drugs, and has been religiously taking my multivitamins. I haven't been to the gym in quite a while, which I admit is because of laziness. I hope I find a gym buddy who'll coax me into the fitness habit. I have missed a couple or so yoga sessions in Yoga For Life because of some odd conflicts in my ironically wide-open schedule. All in all, I have no complaints about my health.

I have also resumed the skin care regimen which I have neglected for months for reasons inclusive of indolence. I have long vied for smoothness, and I am armed with the proper creams and washes for it. I also paid my dentist a visit and a certain amount of cash for prophylaxis. Now my pearly whites have their squeaky-clean feel restored where brushing and flossing fall short. I also had a barber shave my noggin down to what may be described as military, much to my mom's and some friends' dismay. I love that a clean stroke of a razor can polarize people around me. They either love it or hate it. My BFF is sure to love it, ovoid that he is.

Sex is left in the backburner as of late. I have forgotten when my last lay was. Not that the opportunity hasn't presented itself, especially now that the bed weather is making guys' hormones go haywire, mine included. I have made the firm decision to give my disco stick and my man-pussy some rest, in preparation for someone who'd give more than a fuck. I don't want to rush headlong into Couplesville. One wrong turn and I'd end up in Splitsville instead, which is adjacent to Bittertown and Remorse City. You don't get into a relationship when you're lonely, they say, you get into one when you're ready. I don't think I'm ready yet. And so I subsist on all the effing porn I can get my non-stroking hand on.

In sum, my career is in standstill, my health is robust, beautification is in progress, and sex and love are put on hold. A typical profile of a gay guy in quarter life, um, petit crise. I'll close with the definition of QLC as performed by The Rembrandts.

So no one told you life was gonna be this way
Your job's a joke, you're broke, your love life's DOA
It's like you're always stuck in second gear
When it hasn't been your day, your week, your month, or even your year

but...

I'll be there for you~