A confession…

Dear Reader,

As you know, I should have posted on Monday. I didn’t forget, I simply wasn’t in the mood.

Dating is tough work. If you’ve met the datee already, you either have a little “I-might-just-like-you”  crush on them, which is great but for the stress and anxiety that goes into the process of readying yourself. Or you don’t, and are stressed thinking about what sort of silly questions you’re going to fill the awkward spaces with – “you’re a cat person?, I’m more of a goldfish person myself.”

Alternatively, it’s a blind date. For some reason unbeknownst to me, I thought that these would be stress free. Oh, ignorance is bliss. Until about an hour before, they are. And then t-minus-60-minutes arrive and you start thinking about what could go wrong -he could be late; you could never find each other; he could have a mustache, or really bad acne…and you won’t be able to stop thinking about sqeeeeezing that pimple on his chin(!!); he could be a racist; or, or he could be The One and you’re only wearing your 16th best outfit because you only started getting ready an hour before #hypotheticalfacepalm.


Dear Reader, I promise to continue to date only if to provide you with the sordid details ;)…but, should you see me looking decidedly disheveled and anxious, a coffee would be much appreciated – milk, no sugar.


Cece Rose

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