i had drinks the other night with a couple of friends, both of whom are having women troubles. through the course of our conversation, as i tried to offer help and council, the microscope was turned my direction. of course, i don’t have women troubles, at least not in the way they do, and so i played it off like i am happy with my life of perpetual bachelorhood.
now, don’t misunderstand. there is a large part of me that truly has no complaints about my life. i’ve taken my trials in stride and have very few complaints about my life. i may have no job, live with a chronic illness and on a shoestring budget provided by unemployment insurance benefits, but i’m doing exactly what i want to be doing. i get to spend every day doing what i love; politics.
most of the time i think a woman would certainly complicate what i describe as a simple and happy life. my schedule is sporadic and every day is a bit different. i don’t like much the idea of having to divide my time between a relationship and trying to build a reputation and potentially a career. and i told my friends this, leaving out the “most of the time” bit. i made it sound like the last thing i want, or need, is a relationship.