Mopiness is Over

Mopiness is Over

My mopiness (is that an actual word?) is over. Too much time spent worrying and lamenting over the misfortunes in my life. I've always been a lass who pulls herself up by the bootstraps. While I may not own any boots, I sure have plenty of strappy sandles with which to pull myself. I still have the final exams to work for, and plenty to worry about. So I am now officially beyond grieving-mode.

So what mode am I in now? I am in the "obsessive/anxious" mode. Dating, apparently, makes me obsessive and anxious. It's not a pretty sight. Of course my counterpart is none the wiser. However, I sit at home biting my nails out. My obsession and anxiety is never outwardly projected; it is an internal battle that consumes me and makes me implode. I'm not used to dating, perhaps. I'm just not in game mode -- the push and pulls of dating is something I've lost familiarity with. Not that I was a great female casanova, but I'm really in no man's land. And as you know, I'm just not too good with situations of which I have no control. I just know where I'm going and how I'm going and so on and so forth. It's part of my predictable charm (I hope). However, dating, is like a dangerous game. Somehow, I'm not living quite up to the "dangerous" part of the theme of dangerous woman. I'm meek. I'm fearful. I'm frightened. I'm nervous. I'm anxious. I'm nuts. It's one of those things that only time would tell, I guess.