First of all, I would like to stress, I am writing this blog simply for my own entertainment.
The truth is, I am bored. I am very, very, very bored. In fact, I am so bored, I am running out of ways to format my typing to convey exactly how bored I am.
I have been secretary and legal consultant for a small licensing company for about 7 years. I have a desk in a bog-standard office. I go to the same sandwich bar everyday. The people who were here when I came have gone on to "better things". I am now part of the furniture. A comfy, if slightly worn-out sofa, if you will.
I am married, rather begrudgingly, to a man who no longer makes me feel anything. We met in my late twenties, through a mutual friend, after I had been hung out to dry by the love of my life, Mr Perfect. Mr Perfect was as his name suggested, bar the fact that, despite my best efforts, I was not his one. Ms Perfect, whom he met at a work conference during our 3rd year together, was his one, and he made like a banana when he discovered that, leaving me with a pending contact for a two-bedroom flat and a chronic lack of faith.
Hubby, however, was nice and predictable. We courted for the standard 3 months (the recommended dating-period for rehabilitating sad singletons), and began seeing each other, which turned into going out with each other, which turned into a proposal and finally, marriage.
Things are okay between us. I think that maybe that's the problem - things are fine. But it isn't exciting...it isn't even interesting anymore. Our love-making is performed mostly out of habit. If he leaves the dishes expectantly in the sink, it makes me furious. Even the way he moves in bed (not erratically, but very frequently, with a lot of grunting) makes me want to stab myself in the eye with a fork. Honestly, if he ever leaves any cutlery in reaching distance of my bed, my health will be at serious risk.
Scratch what I said at the beginning of this blog. I am lonely. I am writing so people will write back. Help me feel less boring.
Lots of love,