The Reason I Will Die Alone With 28 Dogs Waiting to Devour Me

I’m not trying to be pessimistic or anything. I’m quite convinced that if I made a conscious effort, I could get laid. The problem is, a conscious effort is too much work.

I wasn’t really planning to dedicate a whole post to this topic, because we both know it deserves a three-volume book, but this is funny and I really owe Cheryl a post. After all, the woman is nice enough to visit everyday. 🙂

Here’s the thing.

I was travelling from Kuala Lumpur to Moscow last week, with a 5-hour stopover at Dubai International Airport. Seeing that I didn’t get much sleep on the way there, as soon as I disembarked the plane, I went to my usual spot where not many people sit, turned my laptop bag into a makeshift pillow and knocked out. Glorious, glorious sleep…

After about three hours, I woke up realizing that due to being so tired, I had slept with my mouth WIDE open. Eyes still closed, I was silently cursing at my utter lame-ness. I should have kept my eyes closed. I opened them to find a very attractive guy sitting next to me. Thankfully, we were a chair apart, but my face was towards him and I did not know how long he had been sitting there. For all I know, I had been showing him my wisdom teeth for the past hour. To any other person, it would have looked something like this:

A Non-artist's impression

Once I had attempted to gracefully sit in the chair and revive my almost dead right arm, I noticed that the cutie was working on a presentation about Turner’s Syndrome. Oh dear Lord, don’t tell me he’s smart, too?! I couldn’t even PRETEND  to be clever, all I had was my diary and a novel called “Llama Parlour”. Thankfully, my misery and mental self-abuse was halted by him getting up to board his flight to Dusseldorf.

Why couldn’t I be the kind of chick whose blouse opens up to reveal a super sexy bra as she sleeps, instead of ME?