It's raining MEN!

When it rains, it pours...men! At least this seems to be pretty indicative of my life lately. My jedi-mind trick, MANuel advice must have worked on someone, because lo and behold the wonderment that filled my day.

First [fighter] text me as asked me out for next weekend. I felt an instant smile spreading across my face. Which was quickly erased with "the thinker." Why now? Because his fight will be over? Because now he'll have more time? Now he wants to start something after almost a month of being apart? I just feel like too many questions are going to come up on that "first" second date. I mean we've already had the us talk, we already were dating, are we dating again? And what happens the next time he has a fight? This is what he wants to do, it's his first love, his passion. I know there will be a next one and probably three months down the road. I would never ask him to give that up for me so what happens to us the next time around? Maybe I am getting too far ahead of myself and maybe he just misses my company and the friendship we created. I mean if you're dating someone and not sleeping with them, honestly the only think developing is a friendship.

Not five minutes after this, I get a text from [shrink] wishing me a wonderful day. "Hello! I don't want you to wish me a wonderful day, I want you to call me and ask about my day!" This was more annoying than endearing, and I more a feeling of accomplishment than lust. I'm going to follow the steadfast (and stupid rule until I say it applies) rule here. Tomorrow is Wednesday. If he doesn't ask me out by tomorrow, I'm going to gracefully decline if he does so at all this week! Men need to learn. Maybe I should write a Womanuel...a book for all men to learn about the secrets of woman. Maybe put to rest the idea that we're crazy and make them think for a change that they're all really just idiots and that's why we act crazy. I mean I always thought men were simple creatures, and this guy managed to write a book about their simplicity. Reading it, I employ the same expression as a confused puppy with my head tilted to the side. If he can stretch 200 pages to simply say; dress slutty, don't gain wait and give us lots of blow jobs; I can certainly manage to write a book about women.

Maybe serial dating is my life's calling. Maybe I was meant to write about my dating disasters, woes and uncertainties for all of the world to find their soul mates! I mean after all, the only part that matters in a fairytale is the ending!