Dream a Little Dream Of Me

Last night I dreamt of my ex-interests of the past. Bless my sub-counscious for making them all far more attractive than both they and I deserve credit for, but it was an interesting trip down memory lane. I always find the most disappointing thing about dreams is that they don't always end, you know? I have so many cliff hanger dreams kicking about. I just want to know how they end.

Though all the fellows of my dream shall remain nameless ( my most recent ex not actually making an appearance, for I thankfully woke up), it was certainly a start to look at the differences between those fellows I found attractive over the years. I know I have always been of the school of thought that since I am no 10, I cannot wish for more than...Oh, say a 6 to like me. My standards in physical attraction are quite low because of that self-esteem thing I have going, so it makes it all the more dreadful to look at the homely fellows of years past. I think, after that dream, my standards shifted. Seriously. Homely, homely fellows, some of them. All of them. It's just sad.

However, as I've mentioned before, I do have the issue of tearing boys apart within a week of actually dating them. They are no longer attractive, no longer intelligent, they are just annoying pricks with dicks (or vice versa, if you please). I dislike being around them and having to do things with them. I'm told I will eventually find someone I don't mind being around, that I can hang out with, but forgive me if I am pessimistic. I don't care that I haven't been at this dating thing for long, I'm not one to 'keep on truckin'. Fuck that. When everyone else is still truckin', I'm resting on the curb, sick and tired of that shit.

I've prematurely reached my dating climax. No one is satisfied, this way.