The worst thing about dating in my humble, I-don't-go-on-dates opinion is the waiting. I hate the day (or days) after when you wonder what the fuck is coming next. So much anxiety.
And of course, you end up breaking down the date and analyzing ever word, look or action the other person made to try to determine if their interest in you has waned. In the course of doing this, you decide you are too fat, too ugly, too stupid, too everything they aren't looking for in a girlfriend. Then you start kicking yourself for the outfit you wore, the way you laughed, what you said and wondering what you could have done differently.
Its enough to make a girl wanna be a nun. Speaking of nuns, Oprah had those bitches on TV and I caught the syndicated version over the summer and she did not ask them if they...well, masturbate and imagine God while doing so. I mean, they are married to him for God's sake. Or Jesus. Ohhhh maybe they imagine both, is that cheating? Or maybe I should just go back to dating backwards. At least then I got action.
Anyway, the point is I have now convinced myself The Commercial Banker is not interested in me as anything more than a friend and I am actually really bummed about it.
Never. Dating. Again.
He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not...
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