My friend told me last night, as I was dumping my heartache on him about manfriend and I’s current situation, that he ‘can’t wait to read my memoirs someday.’
He says that because my dating adventures are so ridiculous that people think I should write them down.
In fact, my co-worker’s son has! He’s a college sophomore and he has written a play for a class about my love life. And the fact that I like to give nicknames to some of the losers I’ve dated. Oy. My life.
My brother (good-naturedly I suppose) called me a ‘dating slut’ a few weeks ago. He says that only because I’ve gone out with and dated a lot of men in the past few years.
He then asked me how many men I have dated this year. Upon further reflection, I discovered that number is 9. Doesn’t seem like THAT many, right? Whatevs. I’m not ashamed of it.
Another co-worker (who is married) told me that she loves my dating adventures, and that the problems I face in the relationships seem so much worse than the things she complains about with her husband.
I’m glad I can entertain people with my misadventures in the dating world. It’s bound to workout someday, right?
Sorry for the brain dump. Sometimes you just need to get it all out, right? Thanks for listening.
Runnin' Down a Dream 