as a dear friend reminded me via email yesterday, i once made “charts” to assist me through an especially excruciating break up. these hand drawn 30-day calendars kept me from texting an ex who was deeply embedded in my psyche. for each day i went without texting him i got to color in that day’s square. if i caved and contacted him it was game over and back to square one, if you will. success was patchy because i underestimated my propensity to live in the past. but the point is i’m no stranger to extreme measures when it comes to psychologically eradicating men.
yesterday i created another technique. recently, i’ve been spending more time than is healthy on match.com, my online dating site of choice because too many guys wearing masks wrote to me on okcupid. there’s no one in particular. [in fact, i’ve been on so many spectacularly bad dates in the past 4 months i’m planning to recount them all in a special post. it’ll be like an epic sunday brunch conversation with me but without the calories.]
right now match is just a time suck that, well, sucks. i don’t feel a sense of “wow-ee, look at all these delightful strapping young lads!” it’s more of an, “i’m frustrated/sad/angry/lonely/still hungry but already ate my afternoon snack so i’ll use this as my distraction” mentality that drives me to the site.
so i changed my password. bear with me, because it wasn't how everyone else on the planet does. when prompted to enter a new one i just stared at the screen and quickly hit a bunch of keys, like a 3-year-old playing “work” on her dad’s laptop. i have no idea what magic character order will get in back into the online dating superstore and although it’s only tuesday morning it’s undoubtedly the best decision of my week.
match will forward any emails i get to my gmail account and since email is the highest form of communication on the site i’m not losing anything. in fact, this is a total win, because do i really need to know that MreBaconPlz, 58, from reseda, winked at me? no, i do not.