I have come to a conclusion, and it’s probably a bad one, that I should never, ever date again.
You know when you drink far, far too much (usually on the “best night of your life so far”) and you spend the next two days in bed feeling terribly sorry for yourself and only have the energy to binge watch Gossip Girl while eating crisps? You know, the day after a big night where you wear sunglasses inside on an overcast day and can’t eat anything apart from a cheeseburger and maybe a whole block of chocolate/tub of ice cream? It is in those moments that you look at yourself and you profess loudly, “I am NEVER, EVER drinking again.”
I never, ever want to date again.
Two months of heady, loved up fun followed by a crash of tears, ice cream, cake and baths. Then the up of an alcohol fuelled girls night, jumping around the house, flirtatious fun, dancing until dawn. And then the crash again, but this time the crash of emptiness, the crash of a hangover, of feeling shallow, of feeling alone. I feel hungover. Maybe I just have a two day hangover?
I drank all the wine.
I have a saying, “When life gives you lemons, whinge until they go away”
That’s what I’m doing, I’m whinging. I don’t want to go back to the moment when I had no lemons, but I just want the lemons to leave me alone, to let me get on with my life and have a good time. The lemons just keep adding up, I’m buried under lemons.
Imagine me in a big bathtub covered in lemons. It’s not very comfortable, that’s for sure.
The lemons are making me angry. I’m over lemons. And I don’t want lemonade, lemon cake or tequila so don’t try those lines on me. Although, lemon cake… ❤
I’m grumpy, and I’m frustrated, and I’m buried in lemons. I’m going to avoid dating until I’ve handed in my thesis. Because to be honest, my future career is way more important than any guy (sorry Bob). It’s not really fair to drag anyone into this cardboard and tape covered mess. It’s especially not fair to drag someone into my swimming pool of lemons. Unless they’re into that, in which case, we can build a cardboard fort and drink some lemonade under the moonlight.
I have a freaking wonderful life. I get to wake up, go and research by making, creating and designing, drink endless coffees, chill out with my friends and family, party on the weekends and eat brunch whenever I like. I’m smart and creative. I have two jobs, one where I teach and one where I’m surrounded by cute things and cute people. I have a healthy body and I’m on my way to having a healthy mind. I’m very blessed.
That’s my, “I don’t need no man” sass.
So, there we go. The whinge is over and I already feel like an ice cold beer in the sun. To be honest, fort making and lemonade with a babe does sound pretty good right now…