Well, the coffee didn't happen. Twice.
Hit a new low. Now gents who haven't even met me are dissing me.
Have taken down the profile from the dating site. There is just so much rejection a body can take before the nunnery starts to look like a viable option.
Back to the original plan of seeing if I can drunkenly stumble over a not-so-repulsive stranger some evening in a pub.
Is this a sign? Should I just reconcile myself to singledom and stop whinging on about it? There are far worse things than being the Queen of your own Destiny and have to apologise for only your own poor/pissed behaviour.
Oumph.
Honestly, this could be the spitting image of me.
If I was born with a completely different set of genes and a sunnier disposition. And could remove my snout from the trough.
No comments:
Post a Comment