Oh what a hermit I could be...

I know it's a cheeseburger.
 I'm hungry and dieting.
Give me a break.

I used to wonder why I never met men in this town, and it slowly became evident the longer I lived here. I can't meet people when I never leave my house.

Did I expect to find the perfect guy hiding in my pantry behind the Pirate Booty and microwave popcorn? I guess not. But at my age going to bars has lost its excitement, and other venues just don't seem to be the "right" atmosphere for meeting people. My mother used to say, "You'll meet someone at the gym. There's lots of men there." This comes from the woman that used to compare me to Style TV reality star Ruby and say "She has a boyfriend...I just don't understand why you can't get one." Awesome, but that's another blog and therapy session entirely. When I go to the gym I'm there to work out - no make-up, hair pulled back and flailing around in Zumba class like an drunken maniac. Yeah, no guy is gonna look at me and say "Wow, she looks so hot tripping over that kettlebell!"

So, I've decided being a hermit may be my life's calling. I could totally do it: get a nice little cottage under a bridge somewhere and throw rocks at young whipper-snappers that pass by. Oh the joy of not having to shave my legs, or put on make-up, or worry about my appearance. I would have my privacy, my dog and sole possession of the remote. I could watch hours of crime TV and food TV and never have to worry about road rage, stupid people, douchebags or bitchy co-workers. Sounds ideal, I know. But sadly not possible. Granted, I do live a semi-hermit lifestyle now. But alas, a hermit I am not. Now to get myself out of the hermit "funk" and leave my comfort zone.

Soon this will happen as I pack up and move from the apartment that I acquired just a week after my husband - yes husband - walked out on me three years ago. Yes, I am in fact a "single girl squared" (single before, then married, divorced and single again). I've been through so much, holed up safe in my little apartment. And now, I'm about to leave my little cottage under the bridge and set out on a new adventure in a new city, new home, new everything. The hermit in me is terrified, but the survivor in me is stoked. I hope it's worth shaving my legs for.

Photo Note: I know it's a cheeseburger and this blog has nothing to do with cheeseburgers, sadly. But I have had a huge craving for a cheeseburger today and decided while I write my blog I can at least enjoy looking at this scrumptious, cheesy, meaty slice of heaven. Now I that I'm done I can go eat my veggies and hummus...son of a bitch.