Chronically Single

I’ve been single for six months now.

Six whole months.

This is the longest period in my life where I have not had a man(assclown) to curl up to.

And, I’m not talking about having a few dates here and there, a pash and dash or anything else. I mean single. Alone. By myself…just me.

Most of the time I am okay with this, I almost feel empowered. Liberated. <cue track  ‘I’m a survivor’ with beyonce bootylicious moves>. I’m the type of girl who normally merges her men, so it’s almost nice to have a breather.

However on the occasion, I have fears that I will end up a crazy old cat lady in my older years, whispering to my feline friend ‘Tigger’ or some other terribly cliché name for a cat about how much better it is that it is ‘just the two of us’. I’ll pour him (and then myself) some timely whiskers biscuits from a packet while I watch ‘The price is right!’ re-runs and pretend Larry is really talking to me when he yells ‘Come on down!’.

So where do you the draw the line between being single and happy and free…and becoming ‘chronically single’. And when is it right to throw your heart back on the line and ‘get back out there’ vs curling up in the fetal position and swearing off the male species forever?

In my quest to refrain from becoming ‘feline lady’ I’ve come up with my five top signs for when I have moved over to the ‘chronically single’ dark side and need to hit the eject button.

In no direct order, i’ll be asking my friends to watch for the following:

Sign 1: When I start taking tips from Christian Carter, and read self-help books about men: Has anyone ever read Christian Carter the dating guru? Please save me…he comes up with dating tips such as ‘men like women who take care of themselves, have clear skin, a good figure and are happy’. No shit, Christian, and you want me to pay $39.98 for your e-book? When I actually hand over my visa details, I’ll know I’ve crossed the line.

Sign 2: Forgetting personal hygiene: Let it all go!! That means embracing body odour and excess body hair in all sorts of fun places such as your bikini line, lip and your underarms. When I start picking my nose, grow my toe-nails and think it’s funny to fart and burp in public I’ll know I have ‘winner’ status written all over me.

Sign 3: When I’d rather hang out with ageing relatives: Listening to Great Uncle Barney go on about his time in ‘Nam’ and Great Aunt Jude teach me how to make a patchwork quilt are just the  type of activities that will have me counting down the hours until Saturday night. Say L real loud for LOSER.

Sign 4: Floral on the bedspreads, floral everywhere in pastel tones: Pink and lavender pastel is the hottest thing around, overlay it with some delightful 80’s retro floral work and don’t limit to the bedroom. When this colour scheme infiltrates the kitchen and patio you know you’ve hit your stride. Time to check myself into a clinic that offers a cell with a padded room.

Sign 5: Dedicating a song to myself: Dialling 188-L-O-V-E for those of you based in Sydney will land you a hot date with Richard Mercer on the love line. When I call up and through a sweep of tears dedicate ‘how do I live without you’ to yours truly instead of my husband who has been incarcerated for a bungled 7-11 hold-up, I’ll know I’ve just invented a new word for ‘wrong’.

So what are the other signs for knowing you have been single too long, and you’re no longer ‘liberated’ but have crossed over to the sad side. Tips anyone?