Resiliency is a funny thing. Just when you least expect it, it's there. I have a date on Sunday. By now, even I wonder why I feel so full of hope. Each time, I think this might be the date. This date might be the last first date. I guess I should be thankful I forget the discomfort of being stood up, and worse, being rejected. Each date is like a surprise- I know his name, age, brown hair, brown eyes. It's exciting wondering what he looks like, what his voice sounds like, finding out what he likes to do. Where does he live? What does it mean to be a consultant? Is he a football fan? Does he like socializing with friends? Is he a movie buff? I can't wait to find out.
I want to tell my Dating Coordinator that setting up a brunch on a Sunday is great, as long as the restaurant has a brunch menu. Lunch at 11 on a Sunday is weird. Even weirder when the restaurant is Italian. I'll also have to weigh in at my Weight Watchers meeting in my date outfit. I debated going to my meeting, then going home, changing and getting right back in the car to drive almost right past the meeting location. That seems excessive. I just hope that my outfit for my date, which has been pre-approved complete with loaned jewelry, isn't heavy. Even though I ran a mile last night, I need all the help I can get at the scales.
UPDATE: I found out the time and location was adjusted. We're now meeting at 10:30 at a Starbucks. Not even a very nice Starbucks. Dating Coordinator doesn't know Reading. I could totally do this better- well, not the dating part but the coordinating part. We all know, it won't make a different really where we meet. However, I'm not sure how I will know who he is. I know brown hair, brown eyes. That is very helpful. Maybe I should wear a name tag and let him find me. And we had to switch thing because he has something to get to in the afternoon where he lives. Which is HARRISBURG. We're moving in a different direction, but not any closer. We're still at an hour away.
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