I know. It's been eons since I last posted on this blog. Guilty as charged. You're probably sitting there wondering, if I've resigned myself to old-maidom... stopped prepping for work with the same concentration, started going out to run errands in (gasp) lululemon pants or worse given up the battle with my hair. If these horrendous dispositions have manifested in me, how will you ever laugh at my irredeemable love life?
Fear not! I haven't given up on my quest for love. Truthfully, those admiring glances bestowed upon me really haven't garnered reciprocation. And, no I'm not, "let myself go" in any sense of the phrase. In fact, quite the opposite. I'm letting go of something else. Something that has been like an anchor, weighing me down, preventing me from moving forward: The London Boy (a.k.a. The Scientist).
GASP! Some of you are probably wondering what is with my sudden change of heart. (Let me first preface this by saying that none of this is sudden. If you can remember correctly I had been "waiting" for this to percolate into something for a long while). Lately not even my coffee has been percolating, (thanks to an utterly divine French press). I was minding my own business, looking at my "news feed" on facebook when I read a message posted on his wall. "Nice picture, London Boy, no wonder [enter ex-girlfriend's name here] can't get enough of you."
So, he's back at that! Am I mad? The thing is not really. The tedium of this pattern isn't becoming. It's obvious that his ex-girlfriend can't live without him.
Thankfully, I can.
