Kelly

This year was supposed to be the year I took better care of myself; 2000 and mine, the people say!

Yet here I am with daily aches and pains caused from losing my temper (long story); getting used to the taste of my shoes from putting my foot in my mouth and forgetting to do grooming-type stuff like shine my shoes regularly. It seems like everything that people consider a flaw with me is of my own doing. So that's why, as another Valentine's Day approaches, I won't be sending out death warrants for the winged wooer Cupid!

Not firing for me

I know, I know, he and I have never got along because I always think he's not aiming for the type of women I want, or just not firing for me at all. But I realise that it's not his fault; it's mine. At the root of it all, I AM Cupid. But then, if I am Cupid, technically it is still his fault but that's the type of psychological mumbo-jumbo the mind goes through when you're in a mental slump.

Anyway, I think we're all our own Cupids, actually because deep down, no matter how much the arrows fly in the direction of possible love interests, it's up to us to make the move. My feet at the moment are stuck in cement! Fate also has a part to play in the whole thing because some of the best love stories are when people meet each other by accident. But all the karma, Cupid and coincidence in the world will count for nought unless you get off your lazy behind in order to get ahead.

And I don't mean just going out more. For all the single folks, I'm sure we've all met somebody (anybody?) who caught our fantasy. But that 'next step' seems a bit elusive at times. Of course, the moment passes and we're there stuck with the feeling of, "how did I blow that?" Trust me, I know the feeling.

No hurry

Not that I'm in a big hurry to get hitched or anything. I ain't got no dough for a wedding (even a small one) and knowing my luck, I might meet the lovely lady the day before I get laid off (hey, you never know with this economic climate).

So have no fear of me, Cupid, old boy. I won't be hunting you down like the nuisance I'm trying to convince myself that you are not. Won't be leaving messages on your voicemail threatening to decapitate you with one of your own arrows or shoving your bow up your, well, you know. (big exhale) Seriously, you're okay with me now, really! (Until next year).

Love me at daviot.kelly@gleanerjm.com.