I've read two chit lit books in the last two days. They were mostly light-hearted and fun. One was set in the Twin Cities which was fun, as I knew some of the places they talked about and the other was in Paris as was fun as they talked of many places I'd like to go.
Between these books, conversations that I've had in the past couple of weeks and a few articles I've read recently, I've been struggling with my singleness.
The more I think about it the more I can remember about many conversations I've had with family and friends who love me and are concerned for me and want me to be happy. They know that I want to be married, and often offer ways to make that happen. That just frustrates me and closes me off.
I've found myself at a point where I am willing to admit (slightly) that I've been in a funk for a few years now. (Many might call this depression, I prefer funk, thank you very much.) End of that.
As a result of this I basically just didnt' give a shit. I didn't really care what I looked like, what I wore, if it matched, if I wore make-up, etc. I work at a hospital (not as a care giver) and tried to get them to let me wear scrubs, to no avail. Oh, the glory of basically wearing my PJ's to work.
Anyway, based on my personal reflections I'm wondering why. Have I purposely made it difficult for someone to approach me, let alone love me? This is not a pity party by any means, just some reflection. I know that many things I say (about hating MN for example) would not encourage a man that lives here to pursue me.
There are many things floating through my mind and heart right now. Have I shut all doors and windows and am only looking through a peek-hole?
Anyway, I'm writing at work (from where I do most of my blogging) and there are many interruptions today. So I will part. I've added a link to one of the recent articles that I found quite hurtful and would like to hear your thoughts.
Again, not a pity party, just some self-realization, self-diclosure, and deep thoughts. Where's Jack Handy when you need him?