Top 10 Reasons For Being Late To Work

1. Attempting to leave at very delicately timed latest possible minute.

2. Choosing an outfit for unrelated event happening outside of work hours.

3. Waking up to an alarm and in a sleepy daze not being able to remember what it had been set for.

4. Some form of breakfast disaster, including spillage, overcooking (burning), running out of an item or completely over-doing portion size to the point of illness.

5. Not being told about daylight savings time change by several forms of media.

6. Bad hair day.

7. Contemplating giving up all connections with outside world due to bad weather.

8. Phone out of battery – making last minute attempt to charge to at least 3% before leaving.

9. Spider found in house – sole purpose in life now to use all energy to make sure it can be seen at all times until it either leaves the house or dies.

10. Went on the internet.

The Sad Diaries Of A Single Girl

I crossed the line between being single and being desperate somewhere in my twenties.

I guess it can be traced back to the point when I began using my free time to Google ‘quotes about loneliness’.

See here some an excerpt from my life when I was a single lesbian living alone, (dignity not included):

So I asked a woman out on a date not being sure whether it is a date or not. (And also not being sure if she is straight or not.) I avoided using the term ‘hanging out’ when I asked (via text I might add, because I don’t have the balls) thinking that it would somehow make my intentions clearer. Clearly not.

I’m yet to even figure out what I would define as a date. I guess it is whether I like the person enough and if we are alone together and have planned it thusly. So far so good.

Don’t even ask me how I managed to ask this person to spend any amount of time with me voluntarily. I’m still not sure whether I have misjudged our fleeting eye contact and several passing greetings as something more than exactly that. I do have a tendency to mistake good customer service as a come-on. But she agreed to meet me; that’s the important thing.

My grasp of flirting consists mainly of smiling in a goofy fashion at all times in her presence. The description ‘not all there’ comes to mind when I lose sleep reliving these moments, thinking of things much wittier than what I said. God help any women out there who have shown any slight or accidental affection towards me.

In true nerdy form I have been getting my expectations up for something that has probably barely crossed her mind. Yes, I have tried on the clothes I will be wearing when I see her even though that won’t be for three days. I have even, in a painful display of optimism, changed my bed sheets. Not that I have any idea how to get a woman within three-hundred metres of my boudoir. And even if I got her there, I’m not confident I would know what to do. In fact, my actual reasoning that I have prepared my bed is just in case she has too much to drink and needs somewhere to sleep while I curl up in the corner under a throw rug. It’s my version of modern romance.

That right, ladies, get ready for a wild ride, because when it comes to lovers, I like to start with a first course of bumbling, awkward interactions followed by a progressive friendship of about two to three years. That’s how I roll, bitches.