Getting a grip

There's a feature on dating direct, whereby you can 'add to favorites'. This means you get two lists, the people you like, and the people who like you.
I've given up 'searching' for men to add to my favourites, as, invariable the men I (initially) find attractive have expressed a preference for girls aged between 18-21.

I had a quick look through the 'who likes me' section tonight. Bar the men I've met, who, admittedly have all been people perfectly capable of meeting women in more personal environments, it's depressing. The coach of people who like Julie oscillates between a Saga holiday and a Sunshine bus, with a few characters who wouldn't look out of place on Little Britain thrown in. Or they're photoless and 'separated'. Uh huh. Or, they seem nice enough for the first message and then spew out the bitterness for the ex who 'chewed me up, stole the kids and turned all my mates against me'.

I thought about quitting the site this week, then decided just to take it a lot less seriously. From here on in rather than assuming everyone is bound to be marvelous because they sound it at first, I've decided to assume the worst and be pleasantly surprised.

Meanwhile, back on the far more creative and playful space of the pink sofa, I'm dealing with a clash of cyberspace and real world. I had a few messages from a sane and beautiful woman, who then noticed I worked for the Government. She wrote telling me which department employed her, and yes, it was mine. She wrote telling me which building she works in, and yes, you guessed it. She sounds cool but I find bumping into a cyberchat in the work canteen a tad strange. Worst still, she works with the worst ever boyfriend of the previous post. Disturbed but undeterred, I agreed to meet for coffee next week. It's not a date though, that would be too weird.

I realised this week that I'm really not that bothered about 'finding someone'. That may sound strange from a woman who's blog is full of postings detailing the search, but, actually, I'm happier than I've been before. I won't pretend that I don't miss curling up with another body, I won't pretend that being treated like a princess wouldn't go down a treat, but, having looked for a bit, being single seems a perfectly glorious alternative.

I've decided to limit dates from here on in to people who not meeting is not an option for. No more ' I said I would' dates. No more 'he may be ok, you never know' dates. Yes, I want to date, but only if it's set my world on fire, get my libido into a hamster wheel frenzy dating. Anything less just feels like time I could have spent writing.

I've also decided whilst I'm commuting for two hours a day again, to write properly. No more 'I don't know if I can do it' self flagellation. No more 'I've tried before and failed' self doubt. Maybe it won't be an award winning novel, maybe it won't be published, but it's gonna get sodding written. Ten hours a week, traveling time, 8 weeks, maybe not enough to do the whole thing, but enough to get well past not starting. Please don't ask me about it though, I don't know the answers yet, but promise, if it's any good, you'll be the first to hear about it.