Match.com kept me from having a hangover and wildly inappropriate sex.
Have you ever hit your funny bone on something and the pain is so intense, but instead of crying you just scream at whatever inanimate object you were unlucky enough to hit your arm on? Ok, maybe I am the only one who screams at things that can’t scream back or maybe it’s just a terrible analogy, but my point is this: sometimes shit hurts but instead of feeling hurt, you just want to rage.
Tonight was one of those nights (more on that tomorrow) when you just wanna stomp around your room pouting, then throw on the sexiest outfit you own, hit the bars, throw back a few shots of tequila, then take home the first somewhat attractive boy you see to try to make yourself feel better. It was one of those nights where you scroll through your phone looking up old hookups to call up and hence was also one of those nights I regretted chivalrously deleting all my ex-flames from my phone book a year or so ago with the intention of showing my ex how dedicated I was to him.
In reality, I did neither of those things. I stayed home, barefoot in bed with two of my girlfriends and laughingly browsed match.com for my future husband (or hookup), or even better someone we knew already which turned out to be a more fun, though deceptively just as expensive, option.
But tonight was definitely one of those nights.
