My attitude toward men and relationships with them is improving greatly.Even Ami agrees. After I told her about my latest thoughts on the matter, she said, "Yumi, usually your theories are pretty out to lunch but I think this one is pretty okay. I think I may actually like it."
"Maybe it isn't out to lunch because I was out when I thought it up. I was out in my car eating a salad for lunch.," I replied.
I've come to the conclusion that men are a lot like exotic pets.
They are beautiful to look at. They are fun to visit, to hang out with, to be seen with, occasionally to play with or to pet, but they are just too high maintenance to keep one of my own. The return on my investment of effort, time and money can't possibly be justified - especially when there are so many available to borrow.
I have met one or two about whom I've thought, 'I could do what it takes to give that one a nice home,' only to be disappointed when I learn that they already have a nice home.
What brought this train of thought crashing through the station? Four and a half years of single life.
I lived with my ex-husband for four and a half years before I married him. It took me a while to finally decide to make that commitment. I had to figure out if an investment in that exotic pet would pay off, either emotionally, physically, spiritually or financially.
In some ways it paid off much better than I ever hoped. My girls are the BEST!
In some ways it took its toll on me.
Now, after spending four and a half years on my own and raising my kids, I've come to realize I am ready to make a commitment to myself. I am ready to be in a committed relationship with myself and leave the exotic pets at the store.
Besides, with two kids, a room mate, a dog, a cat, five fish, a three-bedroom house and 60 hour a week job to look after, who has time to nurture, nourish, clean up after and support a needy exotic pet?
The secret appears to be, to actually treat them like exotic pets. Spoil them rotten. Pet them, groom them, scratch their bellies, buy them toys, and tell them in a sucky, gooey, sticky sweet voice that they are the most bestest, cutestest ones in the whole universe. Then if you can actually talk yourself into believing that crap as well, the whole foundation stands a small chance of not crumbling, even if you live on The Truck Route [ominous background music for effect].
...sigh*. Wish me luck.