Last week was a rough week in the romantic department. My confidence (and my heart) took a blow, and I am really fed up with the single life right now. I got stood up twice last week. The first one was kind of not a surprise, but the second one hurt (a lot). Yesterday was emotional, and I’m just kind of over being alone right now. I’m having a lot of self-doubt about a decision I made to end a relationship that I didn’t want to end but knew it was the right thing to do. I still love him. Yes, still. Being single during fall (and the holidays) is always a little less fun for me. The state of dating right now is abysmal. Technology has killed romance. So I’m embarrassed to say that I came home from work tonight and just laid on my bed in my dark apartment wallowing. Dramatic, perhaps. But my heart feels like shit, and I’m allowed to be sad from time-to-time. However, my workout routine gives zero fucks for my pathetically sad heart. So I’m writing out this confession and then hauling my ass to the gym to lift weights. I’m in a strength-training pact with two other women and our virtual trainer has encouraged us to “kick-butt” in the gym this week (he’s Canadian). Luckily, last week I got in leg day before being stood up for the first time. The second time (different guy by-the-way), I actually drove to meet him. Luckily, I was pretty near a YMCA when I realized he was bailing. So I drove to the Y, cried in the parking lot, and then dragged myself inside for some cardio.
So yeah, I’m feeling pretty sorry for myself right now. But I’m signing off and heading straight to the gym. Pity party over.