Wow! I just reread the blog I posted a month ago. The blog that marked the end of six weeks of dating the truck driver. Obviously I never heard any more from him. So I hit Plenty of Fish and Tinder with a vengeance in an attempt to meet someone else.

Initially there was a flurry of interest, and I met a couple of guys for coffee. The first quickly showed his true colours; saying he was seeking a relationship but rapidly disappearing when I declined going to his for sex as a second date. The other was very pleasant but messaged after the date saying he didn’t think we were suited. And I was inclined to agree. I have started conversations with numerous others over the last month but they have all fizzled out for one reason or another. Then I connected with Paul, lives fairly locally, a little older, but not too much and divorced. We only communicated for a few days but he seemed really genuine, down to earth and honest. He chatted really frankly with me, and had asked me to go to his for dinner on Friday. I was truly hopeful, there seemed to be an integrity about him I’d not experienced from other prospective dates.

Also, after I sent a face pic the other night, he had called me beautiful. I admit I cried a little. Guys don’t call me beautiful. They call me sexy. They look at my body, they don’t look at me. Only my female friends say I’m beautiful. He said I was beautiful. Then he left. How to truly fuck with my head.

He messaged today and ditched me. No explanation. I did reply asking if I may inquire why, but obviously I’m not even worth that. I don’t care what anyone says, if a girl is rejected as often as I have been, that girl is going to put the blame on herself. What’s wrong with me? I know I have issues but I can’t believe they make me unloveable. Or maybe they do.

Aside from my ongoing disastrous quest for love, I am finding life at home really challenging. I am having my bathroom refitted currently and at present have my old toilet still in situ and a huge stack of boxes with all the new fittings and fixtures. I have been having a wash at the kitchen sink and dry shampoo is my friend. I don’t think I will be able to wash my hair over the sink with my spinal issues so if I should knock on your door looking unkempt in the next few days, just usher me towards the bath/shower and refrain from passing judgement.

I was on holiday last week, me and the boy. I was so relaxed, so happy. I didn’t have to cook or clean or wash up all week and I really felt the benefit. Coming home to clearing the bathroom and airing cupboard ready for work to begin was hard. I’m tired and I also have to be up earlier to receive the plumber. Early is always a challenge with my chronic illness.

Last night I received a message saying the plumber wouldn’t be with me til midday. Ok, can have a rest. Get a call lunchtime saying he’ll be with me about 1pm. He finally appeared just after 4.15pm (when he knocks off at 5pm). If that hasn’t set the project back I don’t know what will. I am already craving a soak in the tub. I’m weary and tearful and just fancy a nice bath. Some hope. Initially it was hoped we’d have a functional bath by Friday. Now I’ll believe it when I see it.

I’m expecting to have tradesmen here until the end of next week. It is playing havoc with my anxiety. And the boy seems to be picking holes in every decision and choice I have made regarding the new bathroom. I feel constantly on high alert, preparing for the worst. It’s emotionally exhausting. When the heck am I going to get a break? I’m trying hard to focus on how the new bathroom will look and how it will be better suited to my needs, but it feels impossible at this moment in time. Running away is a serious consideration. Big sigh.