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    How to Measure Your Life in Men
    How to Measure Your Life in Men
    How to Measure Your Life in Men
    Ebook75 pages1 hour

    How to Measure Your Life in Men

    By Abby Decatur

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    About this ebook

    After her love life hits an all-time low, a motivated college freshman can't stop herself from slipping into a dreadful slump of despair and stagnation. With all her energy devoted to boy-think, she sees her grades decline and her friendships deteriorate. But a semester abroad in Costa Rica begins to change things. The heat and carefree energy of tropical Costa Rica and new friends allow her to power through her dark thoughts and put her worries aside. Eventually she decides to give romance another try and finds herself in a series of emotionally turbulent, sometimes weird and often hilarious relationships. Realizing she’s placing too much importance on male companionship and approval, Abby vows to make a change. She heads abroad again and ends up in Morocco, where she discovers a powerful remedy to heal her painful past.
    Alternately funny, insightful and touching, Abby’s tumultuous quest to quell her loneliness and realign her priorities is relatable and inspiring. It’s a story that will instantly hit home with many young women and anyone who has witnessed a life measured in men.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAbby Decatur
    Release dateJun 21, 2014
    ISBN9781310971150
    How to Measure Your Life in Men
    Author

    Abby Decatur

    I'm the author of How to Measure Your Life in Men, a non-fiction book about traveling, relationships, the college experience and self-discovery. I began traveling when studying abroad in Costa Rica, also visiting Panamá. I spent a year in Spain while getting a Master's in Spanish. From there I managed to visit six other countries, a true blessing. I also spent time in Honduras. I write to encourage others to find pursue their dreams and live freely. My motto is “measure your life in love, progress and adventures.”

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      Book preview

      How to Measure Your Life in Men - Abby Decatur

      How to Measure Your Life in Men

      By Abby Decatur

      Copyright 2014 Abby Decatur

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright (c) 2013 by Abby Decatur

      All rights reserved. This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to your eBook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of the author.

      TABLE OF CONTENTS

      How I became a disorganized schizophrenic

      When you can’t make a decision, eat enough cake to last you

      Munching silently in the half-cubicle

      The first step to wowing is locating the audience

      How I sought the paradise-seeker

      The guest shall have guests! What a splendid idea!

      Boy-think

      At least he stopped sweeping

      A crowd pleaser

      Fire and ice

      Taking off the princess dress

      About the Author

      Connect with Abby

      Might as well get used to you hanging around

      Good morning heartache sit down

      -Billie Holiday

      How I became a

      disorganized schizophrenic

      Every day of the spring semester of my freshman year was a disappointment. I began each morning at my little college in Virginia by opening my eyes and wishing I were with Mike. I dragged myself out of bed and sat through a class or two, but absorbed very little. Mostly I strategized ways to run into Mike. Then I wandered to field hockey practice, where my spirits were so low that my performance, in my increasingly negative opinion, was almost as disastrous as it was in class. After hockey and a gigantic dinner, I attempted to do homework, though it was never completed to my satisfaction. My friends found me increasingly distant, as I had no interest in getting closer with people who were not Mike.

      Life had been so good. I'd had no idea how good it was. As a senior in high school, I did very well in school, was a two-sport athlete and had a wonderful boyfriend. My family and friends were psyched that I was going to play field hockey in college. I lived at the beach during the summer after graduating from high school. Then I set off to my new college, which was a good one, people told me. Everything was aligned so nicely.

      But this isn't the story of how I was running on all cylinders and kicking ass when I got to college. This is more like the story of a prized hen that wakes up to find its head was already cut off and mashed after last year's fair. A chicken that needs to put its own head back together, one skull particle, brain cell and feather at a time. Without the aid of opposable thumbs, of course.

      Anyway, of all the organized events I’ve attended in my life, I’ve never abhorred one as much as Abnormal Psychology, which I took the second semester of my freshman year. I went to bed petrified and woke up terrified at 8:45 before the dreadful march to this class, which I had actually looked forward to when signing up for it the previous semester. Before my life went down the toilet. It was much like every other class I took in college, except that the professor wanted us to stay up-to-date on current events and to give our opinions on recent changes in the mental health field. He expected us to arrive at each class having read news articles and be prepared to discuss current events. Later on, as we learned how past and current mental health policies had been established, we were to impart thoughtful observations and ask intelligent questions.

      The only thing I stayed up-to-date on was Mike’s Facebook. My opinion was that we should all just go back to bed and that I should certainly not go alone. The only question I had for the world was: What would it take to get him back?

      The only information that could possibly have eluded me more than Abnormal Psych was that presented in my Introduction to Historic Preservation class, which, after a generous-sized lunch and an attempted nap, I attended in the afternoon. Luckily, this class involved a lot of lecture on how the laws that currently protected historic buildings came into being, also known as policy, just in case I hadn’t gotten my fill in the morning. There existed no environment more hospitable to daydreaming about Mike: comfortable movie-theater-style seats, dim lights, and a monotonous professor who never asked us questions. I was helpless against the urge to Mike-dream, so I just accepted the opportunity for what it was, closed my ears and played a movie reel in my head of our past together, or plotted intricate strategies to counter Mike’s elusive ways. At least I think he would have been elusive if I had made an earnest effort to hang out with him, which I dared not do. Anyway, I attempted to compensate for the time I wasted in class by reading the bible of historic preservation policy several nights a week: Historic Preservation: An Introduction to Its History, Principles, and Practice. Yes, this was a logical undertaking, because surely a giant textbook on historic preservation policy would snap me out of my evening Mike-stupor.

      Although I was drowning in a river of sorrow—and on the weekends, a lake of cheap beer—I managed to keep it together from an outsider’s perspective. I never woke up naked on some guy’s front lawn, and I maintained my closest friendships. I played well once in a while on the hockey field, only failed one test, and in the end, never embarrassed myself by reciting love poetry to Mike or tackling him in a fit of lust on the

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