Love, My Ass

Seeing as my self-confidence has reached a new all-time low, I may as well put it up for a proper beating. Now, I need you all to be as brutally honest as you can be regardless of how much you pity me after that last rather pathetically sad sentence and answer this question for me: what is wrong with me?

Do I have some hideous mole that makes my nose three inches longer, sprouting hairs and oozing puss off of the edge of my face that I haven’t seen? Or am I largely overweight and the reason I can’t see the scale telling me so is because my belly is in the way? Or am I just such a horrible person that managed to find friends out of pity? Seriously, what is wrong with me?

At the rate at which boys run away from me you would swear I was an overweight bitch with acne to hell and back and growths growing out of my forehead. I must be a real looker.

So apparently I’m not as pretty as mom always told me I was and I’m obviously not even half as charming as I seem to think, so what is the answer? Well, it is tempting to blame this whole thing on myself and say that the reason no boys will date me is because I’m completely ‘undateable’ because that allows me to feel sorry for myself and gives me a perfectly good excuse to get stuck into the chocolate, or better yet, the peanut butter.

The other option would be to blame it on men and rant and rave about how much I hate all men, but seriously, that’s getting a bit boring. We’ve all heard it before, and quite frankly, I’m over it.

So here is the master plan; I am going to forget about the entire concept altogether. Sure the concept of love is appealing and yeah, I’ll miss those Friday night dates that leave you with butterflies in your stomach, but to be honest, it’s just not worth it anymore. So as of now, I am officially off the market and instead I am going to focus on the things that I am good at. Besides overweight, boring-as-hell-Kat is getting used to talking to her teddy bear anyway.