Today, Lucky Ron the Goldfish would have celebrated his sixth birthday. But he’s dead. Because that’s what happens to goldfish.

… And that was an interesting opener. Light, happy. Not foreboding in the least. Where do I even go from there? Would you like to hear about my dog’s gimpy leg? (It actually amuses me because he only remembers to be a cripple when he wants attention look at me I am so pathetic I can barely walk even though I just jumped on the counter to eat an entire stick of butter but maybe a treat would make me feel better.)

Hmm. This is going nowhere. The weather is making me moody. A week with temperatures below zero makes me want to stay in bed and hibernate for a few months. No? That’s not interesting or happy either?

Something optimistic:

I have THREE blind dates for the month of February. Three boys that have neither: a) girlfriends or b) out-of-state residence. Internet, do you know what that is? It’s called PROGRESS.

I am already planning to dislike all of them, but hey, PROGRESS HAS NEVER BEEN EASY.

Friends have been trying to set me up for a while and their sales pitches have gotten more and more persistent. With that energy, my friends should have gone into the used-car business. Or worked on a children’s television show. When I picture their speech patterns (because this is something I do? And it’s normal?), every sentence ends with an exclamation point. Seemingly average characteristics are made extraordinary with the addition of an exclamation point. He has blue eyes! He is taller than you! He walks on his legs!

I am understandably impressed.

The candidates:

Bachelor #1: “GORGEOUS! And a trouble maker!”

Bachelor #2: An electrician, a smoker, and shy. “But he’s SO nice!”

Bachelor #3: Fluent in Spanish, described as: “like [Work Boyfriend] because he’s somewhat metro but goofy! And he likes his family!”

Although meeting new people doesn’t give me anxiety –especially since I am already planning to not like them so hey, no pressure, they can’t reject me, I’ve already rejected them first, SO THERE, SUCK IT (I apologize. I, apparently, did not take my anti-immaturity pills this morning) –I do worry about making it awkward, both on the date and after the date when I have to tell the fixer-upper “hey, I think the [fixed-upée] is dumb.” Maybe an exclamation point will soften the blow? He sucks!

And that concludes today’s bipolar episode.