And now, this snooze

Mr Stapler and I broke up. It happened a while ago. I almost feel like you should all know about it already. I didn't post about it because I have been torn between protecting his privacy and my need to spew everything that happens to me all over the Inturnets.

As usual, the internet won. I figured that it's my life, my story, and I have protected his privacy pretty well by never posting his real name, location or any other identifying marks.

We broke up for the usual reasons. You know. Because I am a perfect, pretty princess and he is a benzene-spewing puff adder. Or because he is a normal, reasonable human and I am the whore of Babylon. Or maybe somewhere between those poles.

It has been surprisingly painful. The type of painful I didn't even know I could still feel at my Advanced Age.

Half the problem IS my Advanced AgeTM (a woman in my class at the gym today said "You're still in your 30's, right?" and I wanted to give her a big sloppy kiss).

The Evil Chimp Voices of Doom awaken me at 3 a.m. to tell me what a whackjob failure at life I am and that I should have gotten my love life solved by now.

"You FAILED at ANOTHER relationship. What is wrong with you? You're not getting any younger, you know. You're so weird that no one will ever want to date you. And you're old and ugly to boot. You're going to end up living in a cardboard box with 17 cats."

But on the other hand, the good thing about being somewhat older and wiser is that now I can say "Oh, it's just Evil Chimp Voices of Doom again. It must be about 3 a.m."

Then to shut the Chimps up, I go through the alphabetical listing of AKC dog breeds (Affenpinscher, Afghan Hound, Airedale, Akita...) until I fall asleep, usually somewhere between the Chihuahua and the Doberman.

Shut up. It works for me and I never have to take sleeping pills.

I guess I got off on a tangent there, didn't I? Sorry. I'm not avoiding the subject of my painful breakup that made me feel like I was walking around with a chest full of broken glass. I'm not, I'm not.

I'm better now, anyway. I'm alive, awake, alert, enthusiastic and ready to go out and start dating some nice guys. Oh, yes, because there is nothing I love more than dating. Except for slamming my finger in the trunk lid as hard as I can.

You KNEW I'd have that go-getter spirit, didn't you? Some things never change. ZING!