Last Call

It's an undisputed fact that nothing good ever happens after 2 am. Yet somehow I keep living in that realm of the Universe. Which doesn't work so well for me because I'm incapable of sleeping past 6 in the morning. It's some rare mutant gene that I believe I inherited from my dad. 

So even though Lindsay and I were still downstairs at last call last night, we were up early. What does one do so early in the morning on a Saturday? Shopping. 

I came out of the change room at my favorite store in the most hideous denim shirt that I'm sure yells to anyone who's listening "I'm a redneck from PEI!". I loved it. Lindsay shakes her head and sighs. My next three choices were pretty but practical, I can wear them all to work. God knows everyone at KPMG is sick of seeing me in that black and white wrap dress. 

Come the weekend though, y'all are going to get pretty well acquainted with my denim shirt, a pair of leggings and my little black keds.  

"The heart wants what it wants. There's no logic to these things." - Woody Allen

So I met someone. He's adorable. Tall, dark and handsome. He's actually the first person I've dated who reminds me of my ex-husband. You may not believe it, but it's really hard to find a guy with a kick-ass sense of humour, if you have my sense of humour. 

Since I'm no longer insane, I'm not going to pull any of my usual shit, act crazy, push him away. This is a good thing. 

I can't help but think of the other guy though. Apparently, when he walks into the room, my face lights up. We went on what? Four dates? He changed my lightbulbs for me because I'm afraid of heights and in the three years I've lived here couldn't bring myself to climb up that really high ladder. And I am crazy about him. He's like this terrible denim shirt, I know it's a bad idea, but I couldn't care less because it makes me oh so happy. 

I'm in my thirties 27 now though, so I guess whatever my heart wants, "pretty and practical" is the way to go, 3 times out of 4. And whatever happens with Tall, Dark and Handsome, I'm already in the perfect relationship with a cute redhead. She calls me every day, we have each other's back, and the more she crashes at my place, the happier I am. And, come last call, we get each other home. :)

PS: Dear Blog-stalker: I get it. You think my blog is shit. So...stop reading it. And commenting on everything. I'm sure you'll do us both a favour by reading someone else instead. 

Sullivan out.