If they aren't married, they're off on fabulous adventures. And I'm left here wondering who wants to crochet with me. The fact that I'm a 68-year-old woman in a 23-year-old's body has to have something to do with it. Or the fact that the thing I'm currently most passionate about is which type of hot sauce will taste best on my popcorn.
I actually posted something about this on Facebook earlier this week (hot sauce and everyone getting engaged. yes, same post), raising the rhetorical question* of when will I find someone I can be excited about and if that person does, indeed, exist. 1. Stop it, pervs. It's not like that. 2. No, I'm not bitter; I'm quite happy for all of them. Scout's honor. Perhaps I'm just antsy because a lot of my friends from high school and college have found someone like that, or at least a temp that has the possibility of a full-time job and further advancement with the company. . .wait, what?
The way I see it, if I don't feel like a relationship is going to go anywhere, or if I'm not excited about the prospect of being in that relationship, it's not fair to the other person for me to waste their time or emotions. I'd expect someone to be that fair with me. I swear I'm not a cynic, just a realist. So it goes, right? This whole post actually makes me seem like a really awful, horrible, bitter human being, but I really do have a good outlook on all of this. I'm planning a beautiful wedding ceremony for my cats, so I have that. I'm totally kidding. But not really. Kidding. Maybe not? We'll see. I'll keep you posted.
And who knows? Maybe my future husband is reading this right now. Maybe there's someone out there actively looking for a sarcastic, crocheting, guitar playing, crafting, filthy liberal woman muddling her way through life with misophonia. Maybe his name is Ed Helms. And maybe he'll contact me through one of my various social media sites. A girl can dream. In the mean time, just to clarify in case there's any confusion, I'm fine doing me for a while.
|Mandatory "I'm in a really good place right now and it probably has something to do with this" selfie|
The ball is in your court, Mr. Helms.
*Any of you looking to answer this rhetorical question: I hope you step in dog poop every day for the rest of your life. I could not be more serious. Cut it out.