It's times like this where it just suddenly hits me: I'm single and my life is boring.
It's a holiday night, it's right after exam results, and I'm not out partying with my friends and celebrating. Dear god, my nearest friend is fifty miles away anyway. No: instead, I'm sat inside with my laptop on my knees, reading badly-written racy amateur fiction on FictionPress.com. I put on makeup and got dressed up to go and do my grocery shopping at ASDA today because I go out so little that ASDA seems like the place to wear four-inch heels. I've never gone out clubbing in my life, because I prefer to spend my money on silly clothes with sillier names from designer labels nobody's heard of and so I'm flat broke most of the time. I don't even drink or smoke, but I do dress like a crazy little Victorian girl with a floral pattern obsession, and the most human contact I get in a day is the stares when I walk down the street to get another bottle of flavoured water.
And, you know, I'm not quite sure how this happened. Because most of the time I feel all WHOO YEH! I'M SINGLE! NO RISK OF ARBITRARY HEARTBREAK! and then things go wrong a bit, I lose my job in a budget cut, I struggle with the rent and my landlady shouts at me, my growing student debt waves a cheerful hand with the latest letter, and it hits me like OH FUCK, I'M SINGLE. My last courtship was several years ago, and it lasted two months; a neurotic, clingy dork with no respect for personal boundaries. No, make that my only courtship. Ever.
Maybe it's something to do with the fact that I use words like 'courtship', but it strikes me that not being disablingly ugly, thick or having disgusting habits, I really should be able to find someone. Nay, by all accounts I'm a pretty and intelligent young woman, and I still can't find a date. If the fifty-ton man could get a girlfriend, what the hell's stopping me?
...Or maybe I should just get out more.
A Grateful, yet Anonymously Sad Singleton