Dating Strike. This is happening.

I am publicly proclaiming a dating strike for the next month so there are people to hold me accountable. That's right. Public humiliation is a great motivator.

I know I have told my friends the token "I just really need to be single right now," after every. single. breakup. or after things don’t work out with an individual regardless of if we were anything or nothing or whatever. Then I end up talking about some guy a week later that I met at some place and he doesn't act like the spawn of Satan so he must be nice right? Dating is hard and I'm tired of it right now.

The issue of being a writer and dating is that every first date or first kiss or glance is the start of a story or the continuation of the story I have been writing for myself. I’m writing the story we can tell everyone when our hair is white so they know exactly when the wrinkles started forming on our faces from the jokes and the fights we still have. The issue of just being a creative person in general is that on average I have about 15 (I made that number up but I would guess it's around there) more feelings associated with everyday events, so imagine how I feel in emotionally intense situations. ALL THE FEELS.

I was going to give more reasons as to why I’m officially declaring a personal dating strike but that’s a lot of information about my personal life I do not care to share with the possible strangers that read my blog. I think it would be more fun to talk about the logistics of the thing with a list of rules I’m giving myself.

1) No dates.

2) Hanging out with that one guy you met last week counts as a date too and he probably sucks anyway. 

3) Write all of your feelings. Get them out of your crazy little head. Make a dent in the book you’re going to write FOR THE LOVE OF GOD.

The end. Those are my rules for the next month. It’s like a cleanse-diet for the hopeless romantic. After a month, hopefully I can make eye contact with an attractive man and not create an entire novel in my head in .372 seconds. But I’m a hopeless romantic so I’ll always at least have the first chapter done, SORRY BRO. A month from now will be February 20, which happens to be right before February 22, which will mark the 23^rd year of my existence. The strike is ending before my birthday so if anyone feels like declaring his (or her, I guess, but unless she’s Katy Perry chances are slim) undying and everlasting love for me on my birthday for a nice ego-boost that’d be cool. A present will be required if anyone is planning on making such a declaration.

***There are exceptions to the strike***

1) George Clooney. There’s a contest I need to enter before the end of the month to be his date to the Monument Men premier on February 4 and if I win I clearly won’t be passing that up.

2) Drake. Or lezbehonest anyone that resembles Drake. I have a type, folks.

3) I’m not telling you number 3 because it is morally questionable and would require divulging too much of my clusterfuck personal life.

NOTE: I have two lists, each a list of three, resulting in 6 points all together, so I am not having a fit about odd numbers. Neuroticism at its finest.

xoxoxo