I don't date because I have really, really bad taste in men. People who've known me for a while can confirm that I pick some real winners. Let's review a few of my past boyfriends, shall we?
There was the guy that I caught cheating on me. Twice. (I had to climb a tree to catch him that second time but it was totally worth it.)
There was the other guy who thought we should "breed" because he was tall and I was smart. (Smart enough to get the fuck outta there.)
Then there was the guy with the secret meth lab in his house. (No word of a lie, People.)
Oh, don't forget the guy that was writing bad checks at Foxwoods Casino. (He was hot. So, so very hot.)
I got mad skillz in the Man-Picking department.
It's safe to say that if a guy has any interest in me there is something inherently wrong with him. The trouble is that I don't know there's something horribly wrong with the guy until a year or two goes by so today I had a brilliant idea!
Date a felon!*
How's that for beating the Universe at its own game? See? I am smart.
In other news, I might have made a bad decision today...
* Don't worry, People. I'm not going to date a felon but odds of someone I date being convicted of a felony look to be about 50/50.
Somebody at work gave me Rabid Monkey Flu. Or Death. Maybe it's The Cancer. My skin hurts and I have a shooting pain in my left hip. It's hip cancer, I know it. No, I bet it's ass cancer and forever my family can talk about the relative that died of ass cancer in her hip. 'Cause that's how I roll. Ass cancer of the hip. Typical.
I almost made it a decade disease free and then this. This sickness. I'm not a good sick person, I cry a lot when I'm sick. I need love. And cuddles.
Who doesn't enjoy a good fever induced dream or two, right? Last night I dreamed that I found a bag of holiday flavor Dunkin' Donuts coffee inside an empty coffee bag like I'd hidden it just so I could surprise myself in some distant future and be like "Oh snap! Look at this awesome flavored Dunkin' Donuts coffee! It's from moi? Oh moi, I love you!"
Then I had another dream in which my sister told me how good I look and it's amazing how I lost those last five pounds in just ten days. Thanks, Sis. You're looking good too.
Literally, in my dreams. Also, nice jeans.
Why can't real life be just like our dreams?
Ooooh, right. Because I also had a dream that every time I tried to breathe, my nostrils sealed shut and I was surrounded by a crowd of Southern women in their fifties wearing fluorescent '80s jogging suits saying things like... "Poor thing, look at her suffocating" and "Bless her heart, she's gasping" and "Look at her just floppin' around on the ground". Never once did it occur to me to breathe through my mouth.
Then there was that other dream where I was being chased around a creepy mansion by Sally Creatures and yelling for Beast Master to help me but he completely ignored me. Kinda realistic on that point.
Maybe it's okay that fever induced dreams stay dreams. I do want that coffee though.