Gynecologist: “Any pain during sex?”
Me: “Hahahaha, it’s very sweet of you to assume I have any current data on that.”
Gynecologist: “Any pain during sex?”
Me: “Hahahaha, it’s very sweet of you to assume I have any current data on that.”
Therapist: “So, how’s dating? Have you written anyone back on the apps?”
Me: “Of course not, don’t be absurd.”
Therapist: “You know, if you don’t WANT to be dating…”
Me: “It’s not that I don’t WANT to. It’s just… Like we’ve talked about, I want someone who’ll fit into my life, which is pretty decent with just me — well, minus the depressive bits. And I’d SUPER like to have some sex. But about once a month I’ll hear something terrible about a man and I’ll think, ‘Ya know…I don’t really need one of those. Dying alone is fine.’ So I guess I’m just not in a hurry.”
Y’all. I am GREAT in bed.
Not sexually, I’m just really happy to be here.
I saw a guy on Bumble I might like to get to know better, but his profile said “SB/SD welcome.”
I am An Old and had NO idea what that meant. So I Googled it at work, which is how you should always learn about something you’ve never heard of that’s pretty likely to be some freaky sex shit.
Not REALLY, but turns out it’s “sugar baby/sugar daddy,” and…ew.
Dude, I just wanna fuck you — why you gotta make it weird?
The only way I need YOU to pamper me is by going down on me for a respectable length of time. I can handle my own…spa treatments or jewelry or whatever the hell.
Plus, I think I’m too old to be a “sugar baby.” I threw up in my mouth a bit just typing it. 🤢
I mean… I don’t go to friends’ parties SPECIFICALLY so I can hook up with their friends, but I’m not gonna lie, it does eliminate some of the legwork. Like, OK, I already know you’re not a serial killer or a Trump supporter. Neat. What else ya got?
If there’s something weird that CAN happen with an ex-boyfriend, that weird thing is going to happen to me.
“Hey, what’s up, we never actually DATED 15 years ago, we just slept together, and never spoke again after I told you that needed to stop. But sure, by all means, send me a Facebook message request (because we’re not FB friends) that’s just the automated wave.”
I dated…SO many weirdos, you guys. And it’s ALWAYS the weirdos. No ex I WANT to hear from ever contacts me.
Also, I should mention that HIS WIFE has viewed my LinkedIn profile at least three times over the years. Maybe I’m in the running to be their guest star. (🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼!)
This is kind of a lot for a Saturday morning, but I need it out of MY head, so I’ll just vomit it along to you fine people!
I’m going to talk to my therapist about this on Monday, and I’m really not looking forward to it, because I don’t even know where to start in figuring it out.
I don’t know why I can’t just TALK to guys on dating apps. Every time I try to, I freeze up, get anxious, and run away. And I don’t know if it’s because I don’t actually want to date, or that I think I’d feel overwhelmed if I added that to my life (which often already overwhelms me — thanks, Anxiety!), or if I’m scared to…get hurt? To have something actually work out?
I’ve tried thinking about it and I got nothin’. Maybe I just believe I’ll meet someone in person like I always have — online dating has never gotten me anyone worthwhile, so maybe I’m convinced it’s not worth it. I don’t go out a TON, but I go out more than I used to, so it’s not like online is the only way I’m going to meet men.
Do I just really not want to shave my legs more often?
My guess is that it’s all of the above. But if I really don’t want to or don’t think it’s worth it, then I should just delete the accounts and stop wasting everyone’s time.
Ugh. Therapy is gonna suuuuuck. She’s going to make me…feel feelings. And ahhh, fuck, I BET she asks about my dad. 🤢
All my shit is so textbook that they can’t even PUT it in textbooks because it’s too easy. You could tell a toddler my business and they’d be like, “Well, yeah, obviously…”
I have a Bumble crush on a chef, and it just occurred to me that dating a chef would be a very efficient one-stop shop for all the things I need in my body.
He’d be a timesaver, really.
It seems silly to be single with no kids and only one job and say, “I don’t have the time or energy to deal with starting a relationship.” But I’ve just gotten home at 7 p.m. after an unexpectedly late evening at work, which isn’t unusual. I don’t feel like talking to anyone, and the only thing I want in me is tater tots and a glass of wine. And then I want to go to sleep like the fat, tranquilized bear that I am.
I’m having one of those weeks where I can’t understand how anyone has time to do anything, ever. You people are fucking wizards, I swear.
I am 100% willing to take part in a study on this.
For SCIENCE, of course.