During my 4th year of med school, I reeked of desperation. Any woman who was within a 100 yard radius wisely avoided any prolonged exposure to me. I was so lonely and so empty and I wanted something to fill that up or at least dull it. And of course, there was nothing there. I couldn't get a date to save my life.
Now, life's a little different. I'm much happier with who I am. I've come to terms with who I am and what I want out of life and that, holy crap, what's the rush? Life is hard enough without me adding more stress to the picture.
So, on top of all this, a friend of mine threatened to fix me up. I say threatened because it has the feel of a threat. You know, meeting someone on your own has this giddy pleasure. The fix up, it has a palpable sense of doom, because if something goes wrong, it has the potential of fucking up more than just a couple dates.
Last year, I would've jumped at a fix up. I actually asked more than a few people to help me out with that stuff. So I find it very amusing that I couldn't scare up any interest a year ago when I would've jumped at the chance, but now, with a tangible offer in place, I feel... reluctant.
Maybe it's the idea of a fix up that's a little spooky. There's so much potential to go wrong, and it's hard to get a sense if anything right is there. Maybe it's just the thought of trusting my taste in women to another person. Or maybe it's just me and the overriding thought that I probably have the requisite amount of self-loathing to fuck it up just to prove to myself that I'm still a loser.