The lament of the sleep-deprived dater

sleepyI’m a cheerful person.  Part of my ‘thing’ is to bring smiles, laughter and happiness to others.  I like to be positive when it comes to most stuff.  But I’m pretty cynical and jaded in a relationship sense, and I want to be honest.  So here it is – dating is too much effort, too expensive, takes too much time and there are only so many dates you can go on before you decide to throw it all in.  One of my flaws is my ability to find fault in guys, and to be fickle.

I’ll admit, I am writing this in a somewhat tired state.  Given that I have been up late every night engaging in textual conversation with multiple guys, its completely logical that I am exhausted.  Yet the thing is, I’m not sure how much it has been worth it.  I have learned some interesting things, but generally I think I’d be happy to now curl up until May.    Alone.

I love women.  I love feminism.  Emmeline Pankhurst and Anna Politkovskaya are my heroines.  I am thus indebted to them and consider it my female duty to achieve all I can and be as happy as possible.  However, the problem with the concept of having it all, is the practicality of it.  I never put all my eggs in one basket.  So to date one guy at a time just isn’t a practical way of working.  I know what I’m looking for, but…. Trying to fulfil it is becoming a full-time job.  And when I already have a full-time job and a social life, it’s somewhat rather exhausting.  If I have to be missing out on sleep, I want it to be because I have had so many orgasms I can’t see straight.  I had images of dating as much as Samantha Jones fucks.  Except there are 2 problems with this – one, its fiction.  Two, I don’t sleep around.  So waiting for the emotional connection to develop, when also faced with an aroused libido, is really not fun.

I was advised to go on one date a month.  Sod that – not only does that work out to be a very un-cost-effective approach, I’m not spending weeks communicating with a guy to finally meet, then realise how incompatible and wrong we are.  I am a human being and I much prefer the company and warmth of humans, not soundless media messaging.  Sending someone a ‘flirt’ is nowhere near as fabulous as the feeling you get when you flirt with an actual person – especially one you like.   I’m far too emotionally driven to be able to just meet a random, essentially on a blind date, and ‘see what happens’.  I’m not a ‘see what happens’ kinda gal when it comes to a lot of my life – I have to be organised and prepared (except for when I hop on a plane with my backpack and just enjoy life).  But I really detest the hours of texting and emailing.  If I wanted that from a romance, I would be dating someone long-distance.  And that is not the idea.  So the irritation is the hours of deciphering texts and emails, wondering why he’s asking for photos of you in PJs, and waiting for your phone to light up with ‘you have a new message…’.  Duck fat.  Whilst I may not believe in waiting hours to reply to a text (classic juvenile game playing), I also don’t believe in waiting by the phone.  I thus consider texting a wasteful method of getting to know one another.  I want to converse and communicate.

Then you have to factor in all the rest of it.  Time management, stress, heavy handbags, depilation.  Ensuring you have fresh underwear at work, for both the night of your date and the morning after.  Considering what time to catch the bus/tube/Overground to meet them – trying not to arrive too early in case they stand you up, but also not arriving so late that you look like the no-show.   Debating whether or not to wear your glasses – you want to see them and see if they are attractive, but you also want to feel attractive in yourself.  Carrying your straighteners to work because you’re going straight out and you want to look your best.  Having to sneak into the gents changing rooms because there are no plugs in the ladies changing rooms.  Selecting an outfit – and then selecting the perfect shoes to complement it and show off your best assets in a sexy but classy way.  Do I wear heels to be taller and give my legs the curve I so love, or do I stick to flats in case he’s an utter lunatic and I need to run from him?  How far in advance do I shave my legs – the morning of, or do I risk running late because I’m going to shave them in the gents at work and worry about getting caught, thereby performing an unsatisfactory job and cutting yourself repeatedly?  Is this drink / dinner going to be worth the effort invested, or should I just go home and curl up with a cocoa?

My time is precious.  So if I make the space to accommodate a guy in my life, I want to know that he will return the favour.  Also known as, I want to know if we are going to go out again so I know if its worth running up my phone bill with mammoth volumes of texts.  And I want to commit to a firm date because I have other dates to schedule and I don’t want to mess others around.  And come to think of it, there hasn’t actually been much in the way of romance.  Sinking vodkas whilst listening to my ex bemoan every single thing in his life – not what I need.

I know I’m a complex individual, but is it so wrong to know that putting myself out there is actually worth it?