So I put my online dating profile back up. Even though the goal was to refocus on other things not-dating related, sometimes there’s nothing like a good awkward date with someone you’ll never see again to snap you out of it. “It” being whatever form of self-loathing, confusion, loss, sadness, loneliness or boredom you have going on. In a fit of empowerment or something, I threw down some cash to upgrade my personals membership to gold and even put up new pictures. Fresh start. Except there are exactly 10 guys between the ages of 30 and 40 within a 20-mile radius who have visited their profile within the last month. Everyone else is hibernating apparently. Or dating someone else.
I did get a wink — from someone I’ve already been out with. He told me on our date three years ago he would probably marry his ex-girlfriend. Guess that didn’t work out. Oh, and there were two emails. One from a guy who is pictured cradling a Koala bear, which I suppose is cute. The other from the dude who wouldn’t date me because of the book and now won’t stop emailing me. Great.
Sometime it’s hard to find the joy of being single with these circumstances, even if you can sleep in the middle of your bed again, leftovers last for more than a night (guys eat a lot!), and losing weight is easy because there isn’t a better option to going for a run anymore. (Five pounds gone. Just like that. Yes it’s water weight but I don’t care. The scale says five pounds less.)
I actually got another email just as I was in depths of single haterdom and wishing I had my 35 bucks back from the stupid personals site so I can buy new flats, because I’m gonna need them—Koala man is definitely short. This time, the email was from a friend who said, “Remember, this is just creating the opportunity for someone even better to come into your life.” Even if he likes to spoon with zoo animals, is married to his ex-girlfriend and is a crazy stalker man.