Belated Rant 2

Okay, I should have posted this two days ago, on Valentine’s day. Sue me.

I’m tired of being single. I’ve been single for more than two years, and except for the occasional fumbled attempt at dating (never lasting more than one date), I’ve been basically alone.

There are advantages: I know if I had been involved with someone, I never would have moved out here and stumbled into the awesome job I have now.

I like that my apartment can look like a tornado hit it for weeks at a time without anyone bitching at me to clean it up. I do clean it every once in a while, but only when it really needs it.

It’s nice being independent and all, but especially now that I’ve been able to go out more with people from work because I feel like an official member of the team, the lonliness when I come home is a lot more striking.

Two years is a long, long time to go without anything, but without having someone to come home to is really starting to get old.

It’s not even sex that’s the issue (although I certainly wouldn’t complain if that particular dry streak were snapped), I miss just being able to sit with someone and do nothing, or read, or just watch TV with. It’s companionship.

Part of what’s exacerbating this is that I don’t have roommates anymore. I’m glad I didn’t live with most of the loons I met while trying to find a roommate. But am I glad I live alone? I’m not sure about that right now.

I realize I’m worrying about all this right now to cover other, larger worries, like what the hell I’m doing with my life and what I’m going to do this summer during hiatus, since I don’t know if the show will be able to employ me then.

It wasn’t a concern when I was desperately looking around for a job, either. It’s like my problems are a big whack-a-mole game. Every time I get one back into the ground, another one just pops up, endlessly.

It’s kind of a weird metaphor, but that’s what it’s been feeling like lately. Although it could be worse: I could get to the phase of the game where two moles at a time start popping up instead of one.

And if you’ve ever played whack-a-mole, you know it’s really hard to keep up with that many moles at once.

So maybe it is better, in the end, that at this phase of weird hours and low pay of my life, I’m single. I may be tired of it, but I guess I’m just gonna have to live with it for a while.