Britain is a nation full of loneliness. We expend the internet to buy food,track our periods and get dates, so why not expend it to find new mates?If you can keep your diary empty when all approximately you are filling theirs and blaming it on work, and if you can trust yourself to stay single but make allowance for the couples all around; if you can wait to believe a baby,or make plans without an hour’s notice, if you can afford to recede for dinner, and still haven’t got the money for a one-bedroom flat in a newly gentrified area: yours is the soil and everything that’s in it,but you’ll need friends, my girl.
Nobody warned me that my early 30s would be ushered in with the crack of an invisible starting gun; that all around me the women I spent years eating, and dressing,dancing and making an exhibition of myself with would get busy. Proper jobs, babies, or deposits,older parents, relationships, or actual hobbies and hour-long commutes were a kick in the nads to our social life. Suddenly,if you wanted to hang out, you had to “pencil it in”, and even though none of us believe owned pencils since Year 9 maths. Which means,more often than anyone admits, you find yourself all gussied up with no one to see.
Continue reading...
Source: theguardian.com