I don’t understand mopping. I’m college educated and I still just really don’t understand.

If you follow my blog, you know all about my recent ventures into the dangerous world of dating. Do you know how risky it is to be so …so open..so raw and vulnerable?  Right here, with this little piece, I may send many of my potential suitors away…off to marry women who look sexy with yellow rubber gloves on and smelling of Mr. Clean.

I mean, it’s not like I haven’t tried. I’m 47 so certainly, I’ve had ample time to develop and refine my floor cleansing skills.  All that happened is that the dirt ended up getting swirled round and round and then eventually wound up in the corners of the room.

The water’s dirty – the mop’s now gray, not white. What is the point?

It stealthily tip toes around the corner of your desk or lays in wait in your closet behind the shoe rack or it swings its feet off the pot hanger in the kitchen, it is its jungle gym.

You begin to recognize it when the work tasks you typically enjoy become overwhelming and procrastination becomes your middle name or when you stare at your clothes in the closet and don’t particularly care what you put on – as long as it sort of matches or you open the fridge and realize pulling the top off of a yogurt container is just too much effort.

They’re back. Those undeniable signs of depression’s arrival: “Honey, I’m home.”

You know what?

I’m camped firmly at the front of the skeptic line!

I say “soul mate” and “love at first site” are the things childhood dreams are made of, no?  In fact, I am long past the prince swooping in on white horse fantasy. I’m 47 years old! But now, once again, I somehow have wound up at the receiving end of my own advice.

A couple of months ago I “met” a man on one of the dating sites I am on. Because he lives in another country, it was a given,  of course, that we would be just friends. Sounded good to me.

And because we are so far away, it has allowed us to let our guards down and be. Simply be, just ourselves. There’s no pressure – no risk of, well anything.

We have “talked” about everything from relationships, the weather, what we want out of  life, the  flu, our parents aging and getting ill, how much fun it is to stay in a hotel – especially on the highest floor, people watching, interior decorating and a host of other things. He is, I think, my heart’s twin on so many levels.