Or rather my experience with internet dating. It's exhausting. It's exhilarating.
When I was walking to my favorite coffee shop, picture here a sunny, unseasonably warm October afternoon, Zumba music blasting in my ears, all happy after PT, I had a moment of "What if she doesn't like me"? And then I thought, wait a minute sister, why don't you wait and see if you like her.
It's not like I'm going to get voted off the island if it's not a Match so to speak.
So I calmed down, sang along and got there early. I walk too fast.
I hung about till an outside table finally vacated, set up shop, took a pic to Instagram, replied to comments on my last post and text Shelley.
Then I put my phone away so I wasn't sitting there all hunched over with bad posture and a double chin. Know what I mean?
She arrived, got us come coffees and we got down to the business of talking. She talks as much as I do. That's lethal, maybe illegal.
2 hours later we hugged, parted ways and I hurried home to whirl about in a Julie Andrews/Sound of Music fashion so happy was I to be home with two hungry cats in my own little house.
I have heard of people who set up 3 dates a night. Jesus.
Will I do it again? Yes. Will I meet her again? Yes. She's smart, funny and originally from Boston, currently furloughed, single parent of an 8year old child.
All well and good but I was looking for someone with a dog. And a shovel. Hum a few bars of "we've only just begun" here?
I know, I know, when I started this blog it was all gardening and food and flowers. Now it's angst and cats and internet dating. Stick with me, I'm cooking on Sunday.
If you didn't come to dance then what are you here for?