Weeks ago, I vowed I will not date anybody until I reach my goal weight. With absolutely no effort at all on my part, I'm proud to say I can keep a promise.
Granted, it's a little like being shipwrecked on a deserted island and patting myself on the back for the fortitude to abstain from Facebook, but I'll accept my victories however I can.
Not dating is probably the easiest project I have ever undertaken, and that includes the time I determined oatmeal cookie dough can substitute as a breakfast food by way of rigorous scientific testing.
If my condo building were to catch fire for real, I would naturally still fix myself up a little before pointing to which man in uniform I'd like to carry me off of my balcony, as one does. I'm refusing to date -- I haven't lost my mind.
Saying I'm refusing to date is misleading though. If I were to apply the same criteria to other aspects of my life, I'm also refusing a raise, a promotion, five fabulous new job offers, free gas, a million dollars and the opportunity to bitch-slap three people of my choosing without fear of punishment.
Not dealing with rejection or developing contingency plans for when my date inevitably turns out to be a woman/serial killer/serial killing woman/mollusk/serial killing mollusk or a Flames fan is actually kind of refreshing.
This situation is making me no less neurotic or anxious, but instead it's allowing me to focus more freely on other ongoing issues. Diversified neuroses are really the way to go, because now I can share and commiserate with people on so many different levels.
Just yesterday a colleague and I talked for more than an hour about the best ways to relieve constipation. As it turns out, she's on the same medication I am and has also lost the ability to go number two.
Unfortunately, I may not be evolving like I had hoped in order to provide the human species with slightly more spare time and less need of scented candles in the bathroom. It would seem this is definitely not a product of evolution and could actually become a serious health problem.
Before talking with her, I had done some research and spoken with a few close friends. It's always nice to have encouragement, and I feel supported when people call me just to find out if I've gone yet.
The consensus seems to be prune juice, milk of magnesia, following little old ladies around drug stores to see what they're buying, and for the love of god, staying away from anal sex.
All sage advice.
Prior to my work colleague separating from her husband and me vowing not to date anybody we might have used that hour to talk about guys and how stupid they are. Now we have deep conversations about how if it's not coming out, then where can it possibly be going?
While the topic may be less exciting than men, it's certainly no less mysterious.
No comments:
Post a Comment