Can I just say yes, please.
Yes, Darcy, I want you.
For those of you who can’t tell by the whole, fostering thing, never talking about a dude, etc. I’m single. It’s not a surprise, I’m sure, as the majority of my readers are my friends.
Today I was talking with my buddy at work, and we were reliving the times we were told we were too picky.
World, a life with Mr. Collins is unacceptable when there are Darcys in the world.
But, maybe I’m not Lizzy.
That’s fair. Even still…I’d rather be single than married to Mr. Collins.
This isn’t a poor me post. I’m pretty happy with my life. Sure, I’m getting tortured slowly as my foster tots return home over the next few months. And sure, I’d rather not have a day job, though my job is pretty awesome. But you know what? I am sooo blessed.
So, with you or without you Darcy, I’m good.
ps, it’s ok, though, if you come into my life, with or without the white horse and the mansion in the country side of england. i’m afraid i must insist upon the flock of servants.
2 thoughts on ““Gigi told me you wanted me.””
I agree with everything. ‘Cause even if some Darcys turn out to be Mr. Collinses (?) in disguise, they just can’t start out that way. And while horses and mansions are highly overrated – not that I would know anything about them – I have seen the difference it makes on people’s lives to have help even if it’s just a few hours a week. In Italy, everybody has someone who comes to clean. I miss it.
My parents do, and I thoroughly applaud them and wait for the day when I have enough pennies to spare. Cleaning = the suck.