So, the phrase “why I’m single” was texted to me, not about me, earlier this week.

Context: a snapshot of a text exchange between the texter and a person that had exchanged numbers with the texter at some earlier point. It was not a good text exchange. We’ve all had it. You give/get someones number- perhaps in the moment it seemed like a good idea, but the next day/week/month, you stare at your phone and wonder “why the hell did I do that, or rather, who the hell is this?”

Been there. Done that.

It got me to wondering, “why am I single?”

Why the hell AM I single?

If you asked some of my friends, they would say I’m too picky. Others would say that I’m too lazy. Others might say that I’m ambivalent about finding the whole happily ever after.

I’ve been in love. I thought I might have had a shot at the happily every. It didn’t work out quite as expected (obviously, otherwise, why would I be writing this particular crapifesto?) Despite being in love at least thrice, I sit here, jetting my way towards the land of Prince, lamenting my own particular spinster singlehood.

Side note, a few rows in front of me, I just saw the sweetest action – a guy just helped his lady friend readjust her neck pillow. You could see his genuine desire to make sure she was comfortable and happy. That is awesome. They don’t necessarily match- she is about 5 inches taller than him, different races, but man, do they grin when they look at each other.

SECOND SIDE NOTE: WHO THE FUCK BRINGS FRIED CHICKEN ON A 6:35am FLIGHT? For the love of all that is good and holy, early morning is not the time to eat fried chicken and corn nuts on a plane.

Back to the point of this, if there is one. Why am I single?

Is it because I’m old?

Is it because I have a mouth of a dirty drunken pirate hooker?

Is it because I obsess daily about random offbeat songs that I hear/pop in my head?

Is it because I’m easily distracted?

Is it because my ass and boobs are out of control?

Is it because I’ve somehow ended up living in the middle of the suburbs surrounded by married people and families with VERY few ACTUAL AVAILABLE,  datable men in the mix?

Or is it just because I’ve not yet found the right one for right now? (I’m leaning towards this option.)

Note: I’m very focused right now on writing this and chewing gum. We are starting the initial descent, and I’m only 40% sure my ears might explode. The pressure is getting really really obnoxious.

Man, the flow of this particular entry is incredible isn’t it?

I have a laissez faire approach to dating/finding “Mr. Doesn’t Suck too Hard”. Either it will or won’t happen, but I’m not going to kill myself in an effort to make it happen. Maybe that is why I’m single?

Who knows.

Right now, I’m more focused on getting away, on a jet plane, and making it without my ears exploding!

……………..

Flight one done. No issues. There is hope!