Yeah Spring. I see you.

The sun is shining, the birds are chirping, bees are buzzing and I’m giving up dating!! Seriously. It’s vaguely counter intuitive, I know, its spring, everything/everyone is humping and I’m going celibate. I’ve not had any bad dates to report on, so that’s not the case. The biggest issue really is just I’m shallow. Ehhhhh. Maybe shallow is too strong of word. I’m currently grossed out by the summer fashion for men and therefore am just going to avoid it. Now, when we see a reasonably attractive dude walk by, we (by we, I’m talking about me and my lady bits, because, you know, they have a mind of their own) check his outfit. Any tingling stops at the sight of some GD deep vee tanks and pastel shorts. They don’t just stop tingling; my lady bits pack their bags and run far away. Sorry kids, I’m out.  I’m just going to wait for fall to come back so dudes start wearing cardis and pants again. That’s legit, right?

Also I’ve got other shit to worry about. I’m trying to buy a house, like a fucking adult and it’s been kind of a pain in the ass. I’ve accepted a counter offer on one, but now I’m waiting to hear if the seller is going to fix all the shit that’s wrong. Like wiring. Because burning to a crisp in the middle of the night does NOT sound like fun to me. Also, cleaning and repairing the furnace, which is old as balls. Way more prevalent in May than one would thing, because we’ve had the heat on for the past 3 days. And I’m calling shenanigans on that bullshit.

Nesting is another thing I’ve been into lately. Super nesting even, I should wear a GD cape every time I get on amazon because I order ALL THE THINGS! I need these things, most of them, so I don’t feel irresponsible, but I now have fucking paint swatches saved. WHICH I TOTALLY NEED. Because at some point, in some future kitchen that I will own, I will want to paint my walls blue with mirrored back splash.  And I will want to hang my pots and pans from the ceiling. Even if I have the storage space. I want to wake up early on Sunday mornings and mow my lawn with my hippie lawn mower before sitting down to an omelet after which I will compost all the scraps. I want to do this with my dog by my side. I have no significant other in mind for this future, because they will just fuck up my routine and want to put his stupid art work on the walls. Unless I like the selection, I would consider it. Maybe. But homies, I just spent $60 at the comic book store picking up the Firefly graphic novels. I don’t have the time or inclination to deal with your Baywatch posters. Are those still relevant? Do I actually care? Not really. You can bring in some Black Widow stuff, because she’s a bad ass, but other than that, nope, you’ll just harsh my mellow.

That probably reads way more jaded than I mean it to. Basically what it boils down to is I’m a single, independent women who is able to buy a house on her own and doesn’t feel the need to have someone else make it complete. So, suck it Trebek! (Though, sometimes I do daydream that I’ll be out mowing my lawn on a Sunday morning and my neighbor, who just happens to be Nathan Fillion, or some adorably nerdy guy with an awesome beard and tattoos, will bring me a cup of coffee he just hand ground and brewed in his french press/chemex….too much?!) I’ve not lost all hope kids, don’t worry, once dudes can  safely put their corduroy pants and sweaters back on, proudly adjust their bow ties and tighten their suspenders, I’ll start dating again. Until then, I’m just going to nest like I’m growing feathers!

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