Friday, September 07, 2007

Waiting to exhale

After months of procrastination, self-delusion and general ostrich-like behaviour I finally took the plunge. Yesterday, I had an HIV test.

Well, not just HIV; also syphillis, gonorrhea and chlamydia. My friend R (she of holiday jollity) had the tests recently and was negative. She and I have a similar, occasionally lax attitude to casual sexual protocol and her being OK gave me hope. Stupid, naive, idiotic hope founded in nothing more than desperation, but hope nonetheless.
I don't set out to be careless, I really don't, however there are times when I've been too drunk or just too damn horny to care (mainly the former). This is inexcusable, immature and very dangerous. We are all told from the second we reach sexual maturity to take precautions otherwise things ooze and occasionally drop off or in rare cases, you drop dead. Quite why I have been playing fast and loose with my own health of late is unclear. Therapy could very well be an option. Anyway, I now have to wait up to 10 days to receive the results. This is Day 1 and I'm already in hell. I'm convinced I am riddled with disease and have already made mental plans regarding my palliative care. Extreme possibly, but it's my macabre way of preparing myself. I am hoping for a reprieve, another chance to stop being so irresponsible and save my own life. I'm currently making a lot of deals with God.

In other news, I have met someone lovely (I know, I know - they always are). R is an indie guy with superlative taste in everything retro, primarily the 60's. He is Scottish with a soft, lilting accent and astonishingly blue eyes. We have so far only had two dates but they have been fun, romantic and exciting. This morning I received a text from him that said:

'I've just woken up and the first thing I thought of was you.'

This is a delightful contrast to N who was practically bipolar and M who ignored me for 6 weeks then rang me drunkenly at 1:15am last Saturday morning to ask whether he could come over. I took great delight in refusing then ignoring his calls for the next two days. The fact of the matter is, as I explained to my friend F when she went off on a tangent regarding the horrors of dating, I see it as a numbers game. Dating is excrutiating and often a total waste of time but then so is sitting at home night after night watching Celebrity X Factor on Ice and fighting a losing battle with a tub of Ben & Jerry's. The pizza delivery guy is never going to ask you out, no matter how wistfully he might eye your chocolate-stained pyjamas when you open the door. I might be getting clobbered but at some point all this effort has to pay off...doesn't it?

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