I had an epiphany at Harris Teeter last night.
All those years of just not finding the right guy? It was me, all about me.
But not in the ways I've thought.
It wasn't that I wasn't smart or pretty or thin enough, or don't have an Ivy League degree, or an impressive enough resume or whatever. I mean, for some of those guys it was.
What it really was for me was that I chose wrong.
And not in the way I've been thinking. I mean, sure, I gravitated towards some very damaged ones, and one really mean one. But for the most part, they were just nice, normal guys.
Which, it struck me last night, was precisely the problem.
We were in the cereal aisle, looking at low-fat granola. With raisins? Without?
And suddenly I was all, raisins! I must have raisins!
So I abandoned Nick in cereal and headed out in search of the raisin aisle, which is not as easy to find as you might think. Nick found them with the canned fruit and such.
On a sidebar, the groupings in grocery stores are never what I expect. I mean, I wouldn't put avocados and figurines together, but things like popcorn are never where I think it should be.
Anyway. Back to my revelation.
We found the raisins. And Nick, who is not so much on the fruit, was all, "Raisins? What are you going to do with raisins?"
Eat them. Duh.
"Well, sweetheart. I thought I'd wait till you're asleep. And then I intend to insert them quietly and gently, one by one, into your anus."
Nick, who didn't even bat an eye = good choice for me.
Attractive probably-totally-normal guy who, from the look on his face, clearly found himself in the canned fruit aisle at the wrong time = bad choice for me.