So Maybe It's Me... ?

I'm ready to admit that it might be me... ok?

I've met 8 men for coffee or lunch in the past month. Not one of them is blowing my skirt up. Not one.

Even this last one is begining to rub me the wrong way. He's nice and all, but every time I talk to him, all he talks about is his work. At first it was a nice change of pace, but Jeebus... that's ALL he talks about. Tonight on the phone, I couldn't help myself, I just had to cut him short. I was bored to tears with it.

Ok, so it must be me.

Maybe I'm just not over the dickhead, and not ready to be dating. I'm willing to consider that. So what does one do? Acclimate to being the 3rd wheel everywhere I go? Get accustomed to eating out alone? What's next, eating cat food on a TV tray, while watching old reruns of Lawrence Welk?

When I really take inventory of the scars he left behind, the damage is much worse than I realized.

What's worse is, he still hasn't disappeared altogether. He keeps resurfacing just as I stop thinking about him.

Let's all concentrate really hard, and hope for Karma in the highest order.