When faced with a choice, I choose the bad one every time. It’s absolutely my fault that my love life is more of a tropical storm than a sunny day.
Financially secure or tattooed and moody? That’s no contest in my book. I pay my own bills, so I could care less about his bank account. I wanna hear about those tattoos…
Suit and tie or dirty with tools in his hands? This one is a HUGE change from the days of old. Smartypants created the worst kind of preference the night he took his tie off, tied it around my neck and led me out the door. I like them capable and dirty these days. I suppose it has something to do with forever learning something new because I have another broken something to fix. Men who iron instead of turn wrenches, just don’t do it for me anymore.
Attentive or unavailable? Sigh. I plead the 5th.
Take me out or cook for me? This is a forever Daddy issue because mine is a chef and I’d much rather be at home when food is involved. Men that can cook are my achilles.
I’m a bit of a hurricane and it takes a bit of a bad ass to keep up with me. I just need to learn the difference between a badass and a bad man.
I’m tired of the lessons, so I’ve pulled out my knitting needles and ordered an intense workout program. I may as well have a new hat and a nice ass to show for all this shit.
This pattern doesn’t allow you to waste your time worrying about where he is or who he’s doing. I”ll be counting stitches, bitches… not reasons why I shouldn’t love him. Who wants to knit a dozen with me? I could use a healthy distraction or twelve.