I had another mediocre date last night. I knew things weren't going to amount to anything after this phone conversation:
Guy: So what are you cooking for dinner?I think I've hit a slump. Before dates I used to take an hour to get ready. I'd wash my hair, wear perfume, primp, etc. Last night I put on t-shirt and jeans, didn't even wash my face, and pulled my hair back in a pony tail. The excitement is gone.
Sarah: (sheepishly) Hamburger Helper...
Guy: Well, Tuna Helper says hello!
Sarah: Oh, is that what you're having?
Sarah: Oh, so it was a joke?
I used to be optimistic and hope for the best. On date nights I used to be a little more spirited. Last night, with less than a half hour to get ready, I was sitting on my couch in my underwear, dumping the Pringles can in my mouth. (I could not have been bothered to actually reach my hand in the can. It seemed like too much effort at the time.)
I used to like dating and now it's one disappointment after another. I want to like someone. I want that spring in my step when I walk out the door. I want butterflies and nervousness. I want to "accidentally" brush my hand on his thigh.
I want no more Tuna Helper jokes.