I was feeling pretty good about not having to share my home with a man anymore, feeling a little bit like my old self, with my own place (although with a lot more toy cars than I remember), then it hit me, I'm single again. This might be a problem.
What happens if I have a heart attack or fall down and crack my head open? The boys don't know how to use the phone properly yet. There isn't someone coming home from work in a couple of hours to find me. No one will know. What if the pizza delivery guy is a crazy pervert? I know the odds of this happenning are very very low, but it wasn't something I needed to worry about a few months ago.
Here is the really bad thing - I am going to have to date again - OH MY GOD!!!!!!
I just remembered how terrible dating is. On the subway yesterday, I saw a man that for some reason reminded me of a guy that I brought home once. He didn't stay long, thankfully, because he scared the crap out of me. He kept saying strange things about being dangerous, and I was completely creeped out by him. I was convinced that he was involved in some scary stuff. And then I got a bit mad, why didn't he steal me and sell me into the sex trade, what, I wasn't good enough? In the end I decided that he was just some lame guy who believed that women like bad boys, so he was trying to be a bad boy, but in a really bad way.
It took over 2 months with one of ex-boyfriends before I was sure that we were dating and not buddies. We kept going out, but so often one of his buddies would be with us, we always did fun stuff, always in casual clothes. I was never sure if he was just a new friend or a new boy-friend. Turned out he was the latter, he was taking his time, and sometimes taking your time with a woman can be a good thing!!
There was the guy that I sat in Fran's with until 4 in the morning, drinking coffee and maple syrup, we laughed almost continuously, flirted non-stop. We had worked together for a while before this first date, so we knew each other, and it didn't feel like a first date. At 4am, we ended up heading back to my place, as he was too tired to drive himself home way out beyond suburbia. He slept on the couch, not even a kiss, and he farted loudly and smellily all night.
By the way, I am not a slut, I know that two thirds of my bad dating examples involved me bringing home men on first dates, but I didn't do that with all of them. Sometimes I went to their place.