The entire Roman pantheon could be gleefully unleashing its volcanic wrath upon the Pompeian coast and my parents would still have the audacity to ask if everyone was feeling okay.

I’m not sure if my reliance on copious amounts of black coffee or my general malaise should make the extent of my upset obvious, but Mom seems to think that the recent hit to my romantic life was more of a gentle tap than whatever Super Saiyan, ki-charged bullshit it actually was.

Seven years, Kathy. Seven.

I think she’s trying to play some kind of psychological mind trick with me in the same way you play down minor injuries with toddlers so they don’t have a fully-fledged conniption fit in the middle of Toys-R-Us (do those still exist?).

Should I be mad that my mother clearly thinks I have the emotional capacity of a four-year-old? Maybe.

After her first attempt at a pep talk this morning, I decided to stay downstairs and only emerge for snacks. I’ve taken the week off of work to allow myself a chance to both wallow and organize my stuff (in theory). Mostly, I’ve just been staring at the document containing my first foray into writing romance novels.

I know what you’re thinking - romance? Hardly a worthy endeavor for an aspiring writer…and it’s not like I know what I’m talking about given my recent personal failures in this arena.

And maybe you’re right, but I was overwhelmed with a sense of inflated superiority while perusing Amazon’s self-published stock a couple of months ago and was reasonably sure I could produce something better.

(Then again, how can I top A Baby for the Lumberjacks?)

To my grand surprise, it’s turning out only marginally better. I have since realized that there are only so many ways to eloquently describe a dick without abusing the term ‘member.’

I’m trying to use this rough draft as an exercise in determining the attributes of my ideal mate in a weird attempt at helping myself move on, but all I’ve come up with is “a nice smile” and “rippling pectorals” (Disney reference?).

I am well and truly fucked.