But temptation has a distressing tendency to pop up over and over again.
First: men. This is a weird one. I actually don't like very many men or for very long. My most lasting and fulfilling relationships are with women, and I do profess myself bi-curious. One day I'll act on that.
I do have one very dear male friend:
Tom is the sweetest, kindest guy in the world. Too bad I'm not in love with him.
And here's my worst temptation and greatest mistake, the man I called Trapper in a fictionalized memoir, Perilous Play. I know I should stay away from him, but few days go by that I'm not tempted to contact him. But I don't. Not often, at least. I have that much sense.
I've even gotten to the point that I don't like even looking at his photo, though I do sometimes as well as reread our correspondence, in the way that a child pushes on a bruise to see if it still hurts.
It does. It also turns my stomach.
I don't drown my sorrows, though I have had my innings with booze. I'm more likely to eat to fill that empty place inside me. Many women crave chocolate. That's okay, but I love salty snacks.
My current weaknesses. Twenty minutes into Game of Thrones, I'm poking in the bottom of the bag to get the crumbs. Bliss!
And there are the smokables--or the vapables, pot and tobacco. These days our vices are denatured.
And here's a weakness I glory in: Regency romance, the first romances I ever read and still do adore. Is the tendency to take comfort and find refuge in books a weakness?
I don't have any brilliant conclusions or even a clever quip to end this blog, except to note that the struggle to become a better person is neverending.
As Gilda Radner said, "There's always something."