The last week.

The last week, in all honesty, has been absolutely horrendous. My dog was just put down, so I'm still reeling from that, and going home to a nearly empty house will be so horribly painful.

I have decided to end things with Mr. Physical after a pair of prank calls on Saturday led me to realize just how much of an asshole he really is. I've discovered that I really do deserve better than him. I mean, really. A guy that tries to persuade a girl he doesn't even know, hasn't even seen before in real life, to come to his room? Come on, that's just plain disgusting. (Of course, that's how I ended up starting things with him in the first place; darn me!) He's not even that charming, he's not romantic in any sense, and he's not even that good at kissing. Nor is he even that decent looking. If I'm ever going to find myself a decent boyfriend, I have to give him up and raise my standards a little bit. Not to mention put myself out there and try. I have to actually go on dates and figure out how to talk to guys that aren't gay or boyfriends of friends. Because, without that essential communication, it's not going anywhere ever.

This is a daunting task ahead of me. Not all of me is prepared to give him up, but I know that I will move on to bigger and better things.

"Pull the plug. Ain't he the one who pulled the rug? He's lower than an alley cat, dirty rat, and I flatter! Forget about the boy." --Thoroughly Modern Millie ("Forget About the Boy")