You’ve come here this week only to find…nothing. Last week’s post. Not even last Friday’s post…last Monday’s post. What up? (Good God, how I hate that expression, yet there I go…)
A couple of things are up. Or down, you could say. I took down last Friday’s post, and several others, in a sudden panic that I had written a series of things that would somehow get back to the wrong people, despite the fact that what I wrote was as non-specific as possible, the people who it involved do not know about or read my blog, and the people in town who do know about and read my blog but don’t know the situation have no idea who or what I’m talking about, nor do they think I’ve said anything that would anger anyone. Nevertheless, I spent Saturday afternoon in a full-blown panic attack over the possibility, even after I took down the posts, even after I talked with several people who assured me there was nothing to worry about.
So why no post on my love life? Truthfully, I haven’t really felt particularly in the mood to write. A lack of intellectual energy has pervaded my life. I also appear to have a lack of romantic energy, and that combination has added up to no writing. Lack. Of. Energy. Not a good sign.
Which brings me to my central point, which is that I think I might be too crazy to date. (Now this I don’t seem to worry about people in town reading.) eHarmony knew this several years ago when I tried to use the service and they rejected me. I pretended not to know why they did, but just look at some of these questions from their personality profile.
Check all that apply:
I waste a lot of time.
I feel unable to deal with things.
I get stressed out easily.
How often do you feel…
Paranoia is, fortunately, beyond the scope of my difficulties, but at the time my answers to the rest of those questions clearly triggered the dating equivalent of Bad Egg on Wonka’s Eggdicator, and eHarmony assured me there was no match for me in their database. Anywhere. So see ya, and don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
According to eHarmony, though, I’m now viable, or nearly so, at least, since I did lie on at least a couple of their True/False questions. (Tell me—how would you answer this one: If a store-clerk gave me too much change, I might keep it without telling them.) I filled out the questionnaire to research for this article, but here’s the nuttiest thing of all: at the end of the questionnaire, on impulse I went ahead and subscribed to the service. For three months. (Three months would cost the same as two so that’s how long I joined for…even though I have no budget for it and didn’t want to join for even one.)
How’s that working out for me? With my enthusiasm level for it, not well. The first week, they sent me like 10 guys a day, all of whom lived too far away and were too old. I changed some of the settings, and then there were just too many of them, and half of them didn’t have pictures. A few guys contacted me, one of whom listed his strength as being extremely good looking. I’m afraid I didn’t respond to that one, especially since his picture didn’t back up the assertion. I started a “guided conversation” with someone else, but dropped out when his Must Haves included being neat and organized and his Can’t Stands included being “petty”—i.e., critical and picking things apart. Yeah, I never do that.
They were dumping so many guys on me, I gave up on trying to read about them and contacting them. And surprisingly, once I completed my full profile, the interest in me seemed to die off, too. Could this question and answer be the reason?
Name something only your friends know about you.
Their computer matching seems to have gotten a clue and has stopped sending me matches at all. That’s fine, becanse I am in no way interested in meeting anyone from eHarmony. I don’t think I’m interested in meeting anyone at all. Perhaps it’s because, despite the fact that I passed their test this time, I think I’m about as datable now as I was when I was rejected, if for different reasons. Last time, it was because I was depressed. But this time, I don’t need a scientific Relationship Questionnaire to tell me that I’m at least a little nuts, and perhaps the dating world would be better off without me for now.