To date or be dead trying.

The cold war is still on. It has been more than a week without any communication and this could probably be the end because he’s not exactly the sharpest of knives in the drawer (plus he had a precedent) and this time, I’m resolute as hell not to make the first move.

It has been an okay-ish week, except that I think of him every fucking five minutes or see/hear/find out something and I go “oh, I must tell him all about it!”. Takes every cell in my body to remind and mentally restrain myself, otherwise it’s all good.

So on Monday, I met up with a friend who has been trying to get me onto her dating bandwagon for the longest time. Of course I whined to her about Mr. Oblivious and she said it’s a sign that I need to let go completely and cast my net. Except I’m not fishing.

For all the things that I do and say, I’m actually a traditionalist at heart. Online dating is an absolute no-no. I don’t care what people say, but you’ll probably meet one decent person after chasing away a bus-full of douchebags. Speed dating is also not my cup of tea. Seriously, seven minutes each with 30 guys? I would rather go jogging. And you know how much I loathe running. According to some friends who regularly go for this sort of thing, the candidates tend to be familiar faces after a few times and when there are fresh faces, these shallow people only gravitate towards the beautiful ones. I probably would too because I’m the Queen of Shallowness but seriously, these people need a gentle reminder on why they needed to attend such events in the first place. Because they need help to begin with! Yah, I’m definitely not a fan of these speed shit.

My friend tried to use an angle that I would find difficult to say no to- an alcohol tasting session. They tried to pare it down by saying it’s a networking session but I ain’t buying their fucking bullshit. First, it’s on a weekend. I most certainly do not want to put on my sales rep mask and smile and be polite and repeat what I do for a living for two to three hours. Not after a whole five days of being Miss Chirpy thank you very much. Second, there’s going to be alcohol involved. Do you think I want to be nursing one drink in my hand for the entire duration and sip like a virgin drinking for the very first time? No way Jose. When there’s alcohol involved, you can be sure all my attention will be on it. Third, I’m already in-your-face blunt on usual days. Imagine I have alcohol coursing through my veins. I don’t want to be sending grown men home crying.

Tried to tell my friend gently that I’m not interested but she keeps saying just go to make new friends. She doesn’t give up, this one. At my age, I don’t have that much energy to keep making new friends, the process is tiring. And let’s be honest, these people have an agenda which is why they signed up and are eager to attend these “networking” events. If I may be allowed to be slightly brutal in my following choice of words, I think these people reek of desperation for whatever reasons they have. (I apologise if anyone reading this does attend these modern matchmaking sessions- this is just my personal opinion of course)

I’ve said it before that I’m totally ok if I should have to spend the rest of my life alone. If it’s meant to be, it will come to me. Look what happened when I chased after someone who obviously doesn’t want to be chased. Winds up I’m running around in circles with no end in sight and I’m the knackered one.

I just want to earn and save as much money while I can because this therapy of trying to control my emotions isn’t cheap. I’ve been spending way too much this past week as if I’ve got a secret inheritance somewhere. Angry? Shop. Upset? Shop. Trying to stop thinking about him 50,000 times a day? Shop!

xoxoxoxo.

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