Dating after 40 sucks. They only fish left in the dating pool are the ones that someone else threw back and the sharks that prey on them. Everyone you meet is so damaged in their own way they’re just hoping to find someone who’s crazy matches their crazy in such a way that they compliment each other like “Oh look honey, when you line up all our pills it looks like a rainbow” or “Baby, could you hand me the saws-all? I can’t quite get the head off this one”. What I’m saying is that dating is like a giant jig saw puzzle that gets more complicated with time. The pieces seem to grow more sides with every passing year until you look at a 67 sided puzzle piece and start just trying to cram it in any which way if it looks like it might be the general size and shape you were looking for. Long gone are the simple days of the 5 sided, age 7 and up puzzle. We started out with the capacity to love anyone who could meet the very basic qualifications of “Yes, I like your Barbie, you can touch my Tonka Truck if you’d like, and no, I do not have cooties. A simple negotiation and as long as he was willing to share his cookies with me, I probably did touch his Tonka Truck right there on the playground at recess. Now days there is a long online profile and 497 compatibility questions that must be poured over and analyzed to death in order to decide if you’re willing to meet for coffee (which we all know is just his way of making sure you aren’t fatter than you appear in your photo’s before he commits to buying you dinner). In the end, I’m still probably willing to touch his Tonka Truck, or at least show him my Barbie, but I’ve given up on the dream that he might be willing to share his cookies with me.
Are you getting tired of my metaphors yet? Too bad, they’re endless on this topic.
Nurseratchet 