Bullshit Volcano and witches spell.

A bullshit volcano us the only expression capable of accurately defining the text I’ve submitted today as my essay. I know it’s an effect of my semester long procrastination. The thing that made me fail at so many opportunities my life. And even though I knew about the consequences of my actions (buffering one Grey’s Anatomy after the other to be specific).

But procrastination and the results of it is not the only stupid thing I do over and over again. Yes, I’m talking about my love life.

As you may have guessed, I’m single and cheerful again. It took some of ignored calls and  texts from a mental health institution, new haircut and really high heeled shoes bought with the resolution to wear on day to day basis. It wasn’t enough to kill that little evil voice of being furious on myself.

-“What the fuck were you thinking? How could you plan a future with a guy you’ve met in a bar while drinking over the fact that your ex failed to mention that you are no longer together. Or that he has a new girlfriend and she is much slimmer, younger than you and that she can actually sing and do the splits.”

Yeah, well. The voice of reason simply ignores how much in love I was. And then hits another spot. Much less reasonable.

-“What the fuck were you thinking? Planning the future with any man at all? Forgot you were cursed?

Ok, time for my witch story. In my high school days to avoid interactions with mostly painfully pretentious crowd in that institution I was hanging out with the weirdoes like myself. One night I went out with my friends, two female sister-like cousins. Over the first beer I found out that were the actual witches – able to put successful spells, heal with herbs and are contacted by lost souls from the other side on a regular basis. They told me story of their ancestor being coursed never to happily fall in love. The other witch jealous of some handsome farmer put the spell on the next ten generations of daughters. As a result, grand grand children of my friends could possibly hope to enjoy their relationships. Should I mention that any woman in their family had ever been happy in their marriages? Deaths, divorces, drunk heads, gamblers.

I drunk up my cheap beer, got another and suggested to take over the curse.

-You deserve families, and I? All I want is a spectacular career and maybe some romances in the background.

We joined hands and focused our thoughts on passing the curse over to me. I didn’t really expected it to work – a rather obscure bar on the side of the town square and ACDC playing  is not a place to put spells in, is it?

One of those friends got engaged last year and I wish her all the best. My relationships since then had been a stream of disasters.

If we exclude any supernatural reasons for that, there are always Sex and The City truths. Remember the episode Carrie’s girlfriends send her to the therapist and she dates a guy met in the waiting room?

After sex chat:

-So, why are you there?

-I loose the interest on a  woman once I sleep with her. You?

-I pick the wrong men.

Yep. That’s why my essay is shit.