Sometimes I feel like the last single girl alive. We’re a dying breed. I grew up assuming that by 30 I’d be married. Not so my friends. Reality is harsh. I console myself with my list of things being single allows:

– sleeping in as late as I want;

– going to bed as early as I want;
– buying whatever I want and not having to justify it to anyone;
– not having to check in with anyone.

Sometimes though, it’d be nice to cook for two. Anyway, now I’ve got to buy something to make myself feel better, as well as fend off the Alsatians.

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