Perhaps you remember the Summer Not of Love™? It has slowly segued into the Winter of My Discontent™.

Apparently I completely skipped the Autumn of the Falling Trousers®.

(Well...maybe not completely skipped.)

I've had a string of dates throughout the month of December. With the exception of one, they have in large left me a bit weary and worn.

I want to be will be open to process. Part of me really enjoys dating. Meeting someone. Making conversation. Getting to know each other. It can be exciting. New.

Lately I feel like it's just going through the motions. My heart just isn't in it. I have to remind myself to make eye contact. Don't look bored. Stop checking out the waiter.

And then there are the dates that feel more like job interviews. And endless string of seemingly never-ending questions about my qualifications and experience to see if I'm the right man for the job. Yet, I don't even recall applying for the position of Life Partner. I just wanted to have dinner.

As for the guys I've dated over the past few weeks, I will say this: they are very nice, decent men and one day they will make a nice companion for someone. Just not me.

And yet, I press on — ever the brave little toaster — forging my way through the abyss that is dating. Ever ready to bitch and vent about it here.

Or...I'll just be slutty. I could really go either way right now.