I think I'm losing it a bit, to be honest. There are only so many times you can be hit with a cartoon anvil before it actually causes damage. Having someone who is looking for his next wife dismiss you even for routine girlfriend duties in the middle of the night seems to have left me with an anvil-shaped dent in my guts. It does make me wonder why we keep trying. Why I keep trying.
Part of me is mildly stunned that I can still get an audience at all; the rest is screaming PLEASE STOP. THEY ONLY WANT TO TRAMPLE YOUR LADYGARDEN. At my age I should know much, much better. Perhaps it's the Joan Collins in me refusing to look back, and blithely ploughing new and similarly crap furrows to last year's. Perhaps it's the only kind of gardening I can really do.
All over the place you see couples. It isn't that much to ask really, is it. I know they are probably bored with each other and are envious of my racy single lifestyle but flip me, wouldn't it be lovely to have someone who saw something and the first person he thought to tell was me because he knew I'd pee my pants about it.
I'm not entirely sure this will ever happen. For some people it just doesn't.