Swiping C for Cat

Ready for this?

Here’s a story I’ve never written or blogged about before!

Sorry, blogger blog. Stay in semi-retirement, I’ll be back to you soon.

Thought I’d give you all, whomever you “all” are, an update on my dating life, and life in general, as we enter summer of 2022.

My dating life, post liberation from the relationship from narcissistic hell?

Non-existent.

By my choice.

About a month ago I deleted/disabled/turned off all the dating apps I dabbled with.

Bumble? Long gone. Just awful.

Hinge? Less awful but not by much. Technically speaking I am still speaking to someone I “met” on there, and we may actually meet, but more as a friendship kind of thing. She seems cool, I guess.

Coffee meets bagel? They never met. Almost, and I mean, ALMOST, went to meet someone decent on there, but I cancelled it and deleted the app. Just….wasn’t…..feeling it.

Tinder? You’ve got to be FUCKING KIDDING ME. Tinder is to dating what prostitution was back in the day. As in……don’t bother, unless hooking up for someone on your payroll is…..your thing.

OK Cupid? Not OK. Didn’t even go back there. I met my ex on there, and we all know how that turned out…so why THE FUCK would I go back to the scene of the crime, so to speak?

Facebook dating? Held the most promise, and again, speaking to someone who I may actually meet who also seems cool, but……also deleted.

I even, through Facebook dating, had the opportunity to meet someone I connected with who I had known for years but……allergic to cats. Deal breaker for me, and non-negotiable.

Real life? One small opportunity to meet someone I actually dated, and hooked up with (do people still call it that) pre-my ex, but it literally took 48 hours to remind me why we never worked out back in the day anyway.

Have you heard? I despise, DESPISE, inconsistent people. My #1 pet peeve.

With that, I go back into dating retirement.

As is painfully obvious, dear readers, my heart just isn’t really into it.

I just don’t want to.

In fact, walking home from the center of the adorable long island town I live in Thursday night after a much needed haircut, had me thinking.

I don’t want to see ANYONE, or do ANYTHING.

I’m purposely becoming more and more reclusive.

After years of having no time to myself, and not getting to live life the way I wanted to live it, where I had to fight just to have an hour to fucking relax, and being misrerable with the stranger I shared my home with, I find myself wanting to just enjoy my own company.

And the company of my cats.

Thus the title of this little diatribe….

I choose to swipe C for cat.

My life, come late spring of 2022, is exactly the way I want it to be.

I want to go to work and work as hard as I can.

I want to come home and spend time with my cats.

That’s it.

That’s the “tweet.”

Call it reclusive, call it whatever you will, it’s fucking heavenly to me.

Fucking. Heavenly.

There is no love, NO LOVE, greater than unconditional feline love.

With cats, there is no judgement. Just…..unconditional love.

Whatever you are feeling, or whatever is going on, my cats love me and want to be at my side or on my lap.

In fact, if it wasn’t for my cats, I would have ended my life this past January. So to say I owe them my life is exactly that. The truth.

So, here I am.

In love with my life, finally.

In love with my apartment, again.

Surrounded by cats that make me happy.

I have a small core group of friends that I adore, and they know who they are.

If I meet someone, they need to be fucking extraordinary to get me to change my trajectory.

My life is just where I want it to be.

Going to be the best summer ever.