Sometimes I am just so tired of being alone.  This weekend is one of those times.  I just get to thinking about all the things I do alone, and how it so often would be much better with another person.

I mean, I think this until I imagine someone else’s mess (dishes, laundry, lack of general tidiness).

But making and eating food together, sharing cups of coffee in the morning, movies in the evening, and someone around to talk about life.

And I have this rotten desire to be in love.  I don’t know if its because I have so many friends for whom their love life is going splendidly or if it’s just one of those times.  It’s been a long time since I’ve loved anyone in that way.

I don’t want to be this person, though.  I want to be the person who is one hundred percent satisfied with being by herself.  I think I am most of the time, but I want to be all of the time.  I’m 32 and a failure at dating–what other options do I really have? (ha ha)

I could get a roommate, but I’m sort of over having roommates unless they’re the type you’re also sleeping with. (Just saying.)

That’s all, really.  I just sort of wanted to put this out into the universe.  It’s nothing new, but it’s where I find myself.  Again.