Let’s start here.
I am single.
Oh, so, so single.
Most of the time, I love it. I love not having to carve out spaces of free time for someone constantly when I really have none. I love being able to spend the amounts of my free time I currently do with my friends. I love not feeling like a shitty person because I didn’t do something or pay enough attention to another person’s needs or hold his head while he cries goopy, snotty, wet tears onto my bare shoulder because I was delusional enough to wear a tank top in the middle of summer. (Oh, I kid you not. Been. There.) I love that I don’t have to worry about whether or not I’ll have time to shave my legs today because, even though I’m wearing jeans, there’s a chance that someone will touch them and the entire time all I will be able to think about is how it must feel like sandpaper/a brillo pad/the scrubby side of a Scotchbrite sponge/another man.
I could almost give up men and just be single for the rest of my life.
Except…
I hate sleeping by myself. I used to love it. Then I got used to sleeping with someone else. Now I have to line the side of my bed with pillows so I don’t feel like I’m in bed alone. How sad is that?
I hate not knowing when the next time I’m going to get laid might be. I’m not a party girl. I am too sexually dysfunctional (not in a golden showers kind of way; in an ‘I have to be super comfortable for certain things to happen’ kind of way) to have one-night stands. I like the chemistry and the way things work so well with someone you are loving and comfortable with. I just can’t take the time for a relationship in my life right now. It’s really kind of depressing. I feel like Natalie Portman’s character in that movie “No Strings Attached”… You know, without the hot, naked Ashton Kutcher plowing me in the janitor’s closet at work.
I miss having someone to take care of me when I’m sick. Not feeling well turns me into a whiny, needy three year-old. I want someone to bring me a smoothie at work. I want someone to have an orange juice and 7-up ready for me when I get home. I want someone to force me to take semi-unsafe amounts of vitamin C. And I want someone to bring me a blanket and a box of tissues and play with my hair while I use their lap as a pillow and force them to watch episode after episode of Scooby-Doo with me.
Reading that makes it seem unreasonable, but I’ve had more than one boyfriend do it before. So I don’t think it’s really that much to ask. The rest of the time I’m pretty self-sufficient. I used to be needier more often, but being single so long and having so many crappy relationships changed that. Now I’m fine with being left the hell alone pretty much all the time.
I started thinking about this mostly because I woke up feeling yucky today and the feeling has persisted through my entire morning at work. I just want someone to bring me a smoothie, take me home, wrap me up in a blanket, and take a nap with me until I have to go to class tonight.
Night classes blow, by the way. Especially when they last four and a half hours on a Thursday night. Especially when Thursdays are your hardest day and you’re used to taking a nap before going to church choir, not sitting through hours and hours of Biology. And doing a lab.
Let’s face it. I’m a musician/accountant who (for now, at least) doesn’t really want kids.
When am I ever going to use Biology?
Seriously.
Now, where did I put my vitamin C?
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