Eleven Reasons Why You Have To Be Insane To Date Me
I’ve done some self-reflecting this morning after a bit of an early-AM tiff with my girlfriend and here’s what I came up with.
I have a fucked up schedule. It’s true, after working night jobs for the last decade or so I’ve gotten in the habit of being functional during the day while still going out at night. This becomes problematic when dating a “day” person.
I love music. Really love it. Really really love it to a somewhat scary obsessive degree. This ties into the previous problem as well when you consider that most of my time “out” is spent at concerts or interacting with bands.
I’m messy. I wash my dishes promptly because I have this thing about bugs but everything else is a free for all. I have thousand of CDs, tapes and albums, hundred of books and lots of clothes. Strangely enough I know where everything is and get really confused and flustered whenever anyone makes an attempt to “tidy it up” for me.
My dog get lots of love. I didn’t realize just how much love Betty the Beagle gets until Photo-gal got a bit peeved with me for coming home one day, playing with Betty and lavishing attention on her while completely forgetting to say hi to Photo-gal herself. Big mistake.
I have a major wandering eye. Face it, I was single a long time in a scene where guys can be boys and I’ve gotten in the habit of “checking out” every woman in the room. I feel kinda piggish doing it but it’s become a habit. Allow me too stress though that a wandering eye in no way translates to other parts of my anatomy wandering as well!
I forget things. I’ll remember an anniversary but forget to call an electrician to fix the bathroom light. For over a year.
I drink too much.
I drink waaay too much sometimes.
I’m a picky eater. A roommate of mine once commented that my bland appetites must have developed to counter-balance my rather colorful personality. I’ve gotten to the point to where I can find something edible at almost any restaurant but the fact that I like my burgers plain and please hold the hummus drives some people bonkers.
I’ve dated my fair share of women. I’ve flirted with a lot more. This becomes a bit difficult if my current mate is the jealous type. If I’m out I’m going to run into a girl I’ve dated or kissed or collected a phone number from…and then I’m going to feel doubly bad because as number eleven states…
I’m terrible at remembering names. Really awful. Like so bad that I often forget the name of the person I’ve just been introduced to. There’s one girl that allowed me to sleep on her couch years ago that I still see every few weeks and I still can’t remember her name.
So there you have it.
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