Okay, so a friend gifted me a fabulous new haircut, and everyone is making a big fuss over me, and another friend is saying it looks like I'm in woman-hunting mode.
And yes, I've thought about dating. And then I've thought better of it.
Used to be, I didn't date. I just went straight from "nice meeting you" to "til death do us part." And then I hung on way past the relationship's expiration date. Way, way past. Like, if it was a plastic container in the back of the refrigerator, its contents would be black and fuzzy and smell like a body farm.
And what's worse, I've pretty much gone from one refrigerator container to another without giving myself a chance to air out. First relationship 28 years starting when I was 17. Second one 7 years. A whole 4 months in between them. Good people. Baaaaad decisions.
So now whenever I catch myself wanting to date, I look at my scar. Yes, I have a physical scar from my last relationship. Because I gained so much weight after my second marriage, I couldn't get my ring off. Someone finally had to cut it off for me. That was about two years ago, and the dent still hasn't gone away. Here, see for yourself:
The scar, or whatever it is, has become a constant reminder of this sobering truth: It's a whole helluva lot easier to put a wedding ring on than it is to get it off again.
So this time around I thought it would be good to wait a while. I told myself I wouldn't date for a year. The year came and went, and I still wasn't ready. Then I told myself I wouldn't date until my credit score improved. It has gotten better, but am I ready?
Well, perhaps when I lose another oh, I don't know, seventy pounds or so. And maybe just a little plastic surgery here and there. And naturally, I should buy a house first. And pay off at least half the principal. Of course, I can't do anything until my daughter graduates from college. And then there's....