Oh, I'm no fun to be around lately anyway.

I've been feeling out of sorts the last few days and at first I figured it was mostly a not-enough-hours-in-the-day sort of thing. Even with the snowstorm on Thursday/Friday, it's been warming up slowly but surely the past few days, so it's not the weather. I'm ahead on my bills, so that's not it. I have a shiny permanent job, so that's not it. And while my writing's been slow but steady, it's been steady, so that's not it.

I'm lonely. That's it.

I feel like the heroine in a quirky contemporary romance novel, except we never get past the first chapter so I just keep repeating the events of the first ten pages where I sit on my couch and eat chocolate and watch Sandra Bullock movies and feel sorry for myself. It's one thing to just be dateless for a while, and it's another thing to sit there and realize just how it's been since you've been on an honest-to-God date. (Let's just say it was before I moved to DC and leave it at that.) Or how long it's been since any guy has shown the least bit of interest in you. At all. Even a little bit.

I love my family and my friends and my friends list, but it's not the same. It's gotten to the point lately where people just mentioning "Oh, me and the hubby ... yadda yadda yadda" or whatever is enough to make my eyes well up. (I've been avoiding Jared's wedding pictures for exactly that reason. I'm happy for them both, but ... yeah.)

Common sense says I need to get out of the house more often and go where the guys are. Personal experience tells me that the guys never give a shit when I am there, so what's the goddamn point?

*sigh*

I'm kinda glad there's no liquor in the house right now, honestly.