Ugh, I can’t sleep.

See, it used to be whenever I had trouble falling asleep I would think about how I’d meet my dream girl, exploring all the possibilities on how we’d end up together and fall in love.  Just holding on to those dreams would put my mind at enough ease that I could finally conk out and get a good night’s rest.  It was my own personal way of counting sheep, and I’d been doing it for years and years.  No matter what shape or form she took, I could always imagine her easily, beautiful and loving and caring.  My hope kept her real, helped me to believe that she was out there, and that it was only time that kept us apart, until such time finally came to an end.

But now I can’t see her anymore.

As hard as I try to imagine, my mind can’t focus enough for her to appear again, and I’m tossing and turning trying to fall asleep, wondering why it’s so hard now to even put a few thoughts together so I can dream about her for just a little while.

If there was ever a solid indication that my dream has finally died though, this would be it.  Maybe my mind is finally coming to terms with the reality that I will never, ever meet someone.  This world has become too evil, too foregone a conclusion, and I myself am just too different, too detached from humanity for it to even be possible anymore.  Maybe if I had been born 50 years ago I might have had a chance.  But not today.

My dream really is over.  I will never sleep again.

More From Hot Air

Either I have ridiculously high standards or the world has gone batsh*% insane.

“Hey Linc, take a look at this.”

Mick showed me a mugshot of a twentysomething year old girl from a recent arrest report.

“How cow, she’s gorgeous!! Wow, look at that face, so gentle and sweet…” I sighed, and handed the photo back to him. “That’s somebody I know would keep me warm and loved at night. What was it, a DWI?”

“She tried to kill her boyfriend by poisoning his drink, then trashed his car.”

I looked at him and blinked for a few seconds.

“Oh.”

The only time I really enjoy my dreams is when I’m on an epic adventure of some sort, or when I’m a superhero like Spider-man, or when I’m getting some serious loving from a really hot babe.

Not last night though. Last night I’m on this bus right, and there is this seriously smokin’ hot girl with the most intense blue eyes I’ve ever seen also riding on the bus. Of course, me being my charming self was able to draw her attention and we ended up kissing. Only when we kiss, I don’t see her, I see this meter instead, which is analyzing how good I’m kissing her and of course the reading is really LOW, so it’s basically telling me that I suck at it. Then the girl kisses me back and the meter’s readings suddenly goes off the chart. Of course.

But even then, I can’t enjoy the experience because all I see is this fricking meter, and on top of that I got Bill Clinton sitting next to me on the bus. Seriously. I swear dude, if there was anybody who could kill the romance, this guy would be it. And he’s looking at me with this smirk on his face as if to say, “I could do better.”

Romance Tracker recently grabbed my attention with their list of three simple ways you can use your blog to get a date:

Hey, being addicted to blogging is a lot like being in love, which we’ve covered on Romance Tracker before. But regardless of how great a relationship you have with your blog, it will never hold your hand or snuggle with you at night . . . and while you could try kissing your computer screen if you want, we sure don’t recommend it.

NOW you tell me? *sigh*

Anyway, the three suggestions were 1) using the blog to meet other people interested in my niche, 2) improving my communication skills by interacting with my readers, and 3) monetizing my blog so I could buy the lovely dinner.

I actually made enough now to accomplish #3… assuming we go to McDonalds that is… but what’s ironic about this whole thing is that when I first started blogging, I did it almost solely for the purpose of finding the girl of my dreams. I had hoped that by writing in the quirky manner that I did, it would draw attention to myself, and maybe one day soon some hot Christian girl would stumble across my site after doing a Google search, post a comment, and 3 months later we would be in love and planning a wedding in Bora Bora.

What I’ve learned however in those sad, pitiful days, was that such magic only happened to other people. Cuz you know what? One day a hot, Christian girl DID come across my site after doing a Google search, and just like I hoped, she began commenting and regularly following my blog too.

So what happens? She meets the man of her dreams through HER blog, and the two get married and run off to live happily ever after.

I’m not bitter about it though. Being the strong, brave man that I am, I was able to easily recover and move on from that heart wrenching devastation… especially after I started spreading rumors around the web saying her husband was gay and was secretly having an affair with a Latin lover named Juan San Pablo. After seeing that marriage subsequently go down in flames, I finally started to feel better about myself again.

This second go around is proving to be a more daunting task for me though. For one, I still don’t know what my niche really is or should be, and two, all the readers on my blog seem to be either male or married. Really, why would I want to interact with you people? Get the @#$% off my blog and find me some girls for crying out loud. I mean if you’re gonna stick around, then make yourself useful for pete’s sake.

And that’s all I have to say about that.

This mixture of hellish humidity and heat is sucking the ever living joy joy out of me.

Top it off, the female race found yet another occasion to twist the knife in my back just a wee bit more, this time while I was trying to enjoy a nice quiet dinner at my desk. So I’m sitting here, downing a few bites of cold baked ziti, when in walks this drop dead gorgeous bombshell, asking for help on a court paper she needed to find info on.

My mouth stuffed with ricotta cheese, I barely managed to choke it down as I dropped my fork and managed a friendly, muffled hello.

“Ok, let’s see what we got here.” I recovered slightly and took the paper she had. Her light and pleasant perfume was starting to make me dizzy.

It was something I needed to check in the state database, so I walked over and fired up the box to make an inquiry. In the meantime I tried some small talk.

“So… had enough of this humidity?”

“It’s alright,” she said in a bored tone. “Is this going to take long?”

“Oh.. uh.. no, should come up right away.” I felt my cheeks getting hot and tried so very hard not to stare at her figure. Checking her papers, I tried again to get a conversation going by pointing out a few things I thought might be worth checking out.

She wasn’t impressed. The printout finished, so I tore off the info and gave it to her.

“I haven’t seen you around before, are you working in the new –” I never got a chance to finish as she mumbled a curt “thanks” and quickly walked out.

“Goodbye,” I said wistfully, to no one in particular.