Townsville Bulletin - Townsville Eye - - Feature -

The prob­lems I have be­ing sin­gle are fairly mun­dane things like not be­ing able to do up the zip at the back of my dress; car sales­peo­ple not tak­ing me se­ri­ously; rethread­ing the hoses for the wash­ing ma­chine; never eat­ing a proper meal at night be­cause who can be both­ered when it’s just you. We tend to eat out more th­ese days. Os­car has de­vel­oped a taste for sal­mon sashimi, thank good­ness.

I also have is­sues telling some­one I’m not in­ter­ested in them. Mostly be­cause I am a peo­ple-pleaser by na­ture; and the fact that I’m shav­ing and wax­ing all the parts on my body more of­ten, as I have been in­formed it’s im­por­tant to be hair free when you are dat­ing. I’m crav­ing the ’80s where big hair was the thing. Right now my poor body looks like a half sucked pink marsh­mal­low. All shiny, pink and bald.

The ban­ter you had with a mate who is also sin­gle? Well, that is not ban­ter any­more. It’s now classed as flirt­ing. I did not know this. So all this time I have been “flirt­ing” with a man whom I thought of as a friend. Said friend gave me a nudge, nudge and a wink, wink and Jes­sica freaked out. It’s all dif­fer­ent now. One of the peo­ple I first dated when I was raw and in a haze of pain, is now a great friend and I talk to him daily. He’s a bloody nut case but a great bloke and I en­joy him a great deal. This dat­ing gig has its up­sides.

To all my friends and fam­ily, I have said it a mil­lion times – thank you. You all know why.

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