Singleitis
Singleitis [sin-gawl-eye-tis] - noun. Pathology.
Acute or chronic inflammation of an individual’s low-self-esteem incurred by the devastating thought of being alone, caused by exposure to beautiful sunsets, solo gelati-outings, and trying to mount wall frames.
Origin: 2009: Rugged Fox’s bedroom/kitchen/office/living room.
The other night I walked down to the beach to watch the sunset when I was suddenly overcome by a wave of singelitis. Following my nose to the fresh smell of sea salt, it all happened while I was walking through the park. Stepping over blanket after blanket of happy couple after happy couple, it never occurred to me that getting to the beach would require navigating through such a labyrinth of relationship success. Once I finally secured a spot on a log fit for two, (they had no logs fit for one - just wet branches which were small and pointy) I felt the most prominent symptom of my ailment overtake me: and overall feeling of ‘blah.’
Waking up yesterday, I felt much better. After the movers arrived at nine, (what was that, the movers arrived? THE MOVERS ARRIVED!) I spent the rest of the day unpacking boxes, setting up my writing desk and alphabetizing my DVD collection. Then later in the afternoon once I started hanging picture frames, I started to feel sick again. Balancing a pencil in my ear with a ruler in one hand and a hammer in the other, I struggled to draw a straight line in between one nail and the other. After thinking my geometry was perfect, I would nail, hang the frame and then step ten feet back to marvel at my straightness. Except every time I repeated the process, it would always end the same: the photo would be crooked, and I would be aghast.
Searching my inbox for a cure to this unrelenting mental infection, I finally thought screw it and started making a top-ten list to make myself feel better. So without further a due, I bring to you,
My Top Ten Reasons Why I Love Being Single.
My sleep is not rudely interrupted by the sound of someone snoring.
I can sleep with whoever I want. (Not saying that I do, but it’s good to know)
My first step out of bed in the morning is not a mad dash to the mouth wash.
I no longer have razor burn below my neck.
I can eat all the nachos and refried beans my stomach desires.
I can watch the sunset without being yelled at for not bringing an extra sweater.
I can hang my picture frames crooked and no one is going to stop me.
Every night is ladies’ night.
I can fall madly in love with cute bloggers from the South.
I can write top-ten lists about why I love being single.
In other news, I entered into a relationship with a bonsai tree. He is not a dog, but the lady at the counter said once he grows big enough, I can trim him into one.
