Dear future hubster

Dear future hubster, in a recent discussion about values, I came to the conclusion that freedom of choice is something I value dearly, and something I would (and do) sacrifice other things for. Now this might not be a surprise to anybody who's ever heard my signature "Don't tell me what to do" catchphrase, but in times like this, my preference for freedom of choice goes deeper.  Just looking at the past week or two, it's easy to see what a privileged position it is to prefer having a choice. To be allowed to choose whom I love without having to fear that it puts them or me in danger. To be allowed to live where I choose, without having to fear that I will be evicted from my very homeland, which, in turn, will be razed to the ground and sowed with salt. To be able to walk the streets without having to fear being attacked because of how I look. To be able to make decisions about my own body without having to go underground for the services said decisions then requir...

 Dear future hubster, among the many things that we lost in the fire of the past 14+ months, my social skills certainly require an entry.  Flirting, in particular, has taken a crippling blow. Probably because that was a very underdeveloped skill to begin with. A conversation could send me on an overthinking spree for hours if not days. And now, after over a year of talking to the dishwasher and seeing interpersonal interactions only on screen, the situation is dire. I'm currently wondering whether my dentist was flirting with me. Probably not. But... he was being funny. Morning coffee? Lack thereof? Also, never noticed he has such blue eyes. The only part of his face I can see. Also, nice arms. He used them to take out my crooked wisdom tooth. Now I have to plan what to wear the next time(s) I see him. He's giving me the crown I deserve, after all.  Moral of this confusing story is, dear future hubster, that in the interest of all involved, please indicate your flirting i...