My God, could this week be any more traumatic? It's not even over yet so I'm sure it can -- and will! - be. Good thing I indulged in retail therapy last weekend and bought a big comfy chair for my office that is perfect for throwing oneself into and sobbing. It beats doing it under my desk.



It's my own fault, isn't it? Did not I say, just two months ago:



And so, because I am dedicated to bringing you the best in romantic angst I simply refuse to hook up with someone who would make life too easy for me and too boring for you.



What is my f*cking problem? Um, don't answer that. Let's just refrain from our little psychoanalyses of me today - my fear, my desperation, my lack of self-esteem - ok? Why don't you, instead, just laugh and cry along with me and rest assured that I have a life outside all this romantic angst; it's just that romantic f*cking angst is the subject of this blog!

So, here it is.



The Good News

I have dumped the Captain.



The Bad News

He doesn't know it yet.



The Good News

There are *three* strapping prospects in the wings! One of whom - Sporty Architect Boy - I shall meet this weekend when I flee this mess for California. (Stay tuned).



The Bad News

Because I have not "officially" ended it with The Captain, I could lose my nerve and fall prey to a sweet word.



The Good News

But I won't!



The Bad News

Um, hopefully I won't.



The Good News

I have my health! (That biopsy reference was just a metaphor - no worries.) I'm young (ish)! I have a great life!



The Bad News

I'm sad. There's going to be more crying in the big red chair before this is over.



The Good News

But then I'll pick myself up and go, and soon enough I'll be happy enough to give my heart to a man - not a boy - who will love me back.



The Bad News

I could die in a plane crash before I do.



The Good News

Heaven is probably full of hot yet intellectual guys looking to get married.