Like I said the other day, sometimes I believe I have cursed myself in agreeing to write a column on Relationship Angst.
Now that I've thought about things a little more, and by "thought about things a bit more" I actually mean "ignored the instant messaged received by the disaster date subject discussed in the last post and then been forced to ponder what the hell is wrong with humanity because of the fact that he is still trying to talk to me," I came to the conclusion that the universe is really bored, and I am its target.
Maybe the universe and I got off on the wrong foot and I don't know it. Maybe the universe just isn't entertained by my blog. Maybe the universe wants to keep giving me more and more fodder for this column. Maybe it's a combination of all of them. You know what universe? I give up.
Is it all being thrown in my lap so I can keep this column running and continue with bad-date stories up the wazoo? Is it? Because if that's the case, you better chill out, Miss Universe, or before you know it the Detroit Relationship Angst Examiner will be on the nightly news for knee-balling and titty-twisting the next guy who scratches his head with her fork.
Maybe it's a sign that I need to clean up a little. I understand that there are days where I'm a complete mockery to society. The days where I don't even get out of my pajamas, shower or put on underwear because I have no desire to leave the house and there is no way a man would want to date this filthy little demon. Is it because I'm sitting here as I type in my leopard print Snuggie with a homemade mayonnaise conditioning treatment in my hair while watching Divorce Court?
Is it because I ignored the guy who messaged me that seemed somewhat nice until he told me he loves hanging out with his Mom's 25 pound cat? Should I have given him a chance?
Is it because I'm not constantly griping about finding a man like a couple of my female friends? Is my "I don't care" demeanor biting me in the bung?
If it is because of that, is it really that bad that I'm content being single but would still like to meet some decent dudes on occasion?
Would it kill you, Universe, to find a new entertainment target and prove to me that there are some good men out there?
I don't like your shenanigans, I don't like your silly games, and I really don't like your attitude. If this is the case, to hell with karma. I'm going to run in a gang and build my street cred. Maybe that will get me some cool points.
Comments
I'll be your new boyf. Or hook you up. Your choice.
I feel this way a lot, too. And I have no idea whether or not it really is the universe effin' with me or if I really am that much of a picky bitch.
Meh.
I'm pretty much enjoying Universe's wicked sense of humor...
I feel the same way your not alone.
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