Blah blah blah...
The bloom is definitely off the rose. I find myself not really giving a hoot. Not really caring that there've been four matches - no excitement. Two communications from Suitor B - unsurprisingly at this point, nothing from Suitors A or C. Nothing from anyone else.
One person, this evening, was matched with me, then sent an "Icebreaker," then promptly closed the match.
T'was lovely to meet you, too, sir.
I mean, it might have been. If I cared.
Are my three months up yet?
Do I really have to deal with another month and a half of being matched up with people who I am either not at all interested in - or if I am interested in them, they don't respond to communications - when I could spend my time working out?
Or perhaps cleaning my shower trap?
Or maybe determining, solely by control over my own muscles and internal temperature gauge, the exact temperature of the cold air blowing through the vents in the hallway of my building?
Or anything else that doesn't feel like a complete waste of my time?
I've filed three applications for local ashrams. I've purchased sixteen yards of bright orange fabric from the local Wal-Mart ($1.87 bins!) in order to make my own clothing. And I've contemplated picking up a few extra Lady Bics to rid myself of my hair.
... I wonder if you can use Veet on your head without causing irritation...?
