Not A Bad Thing

I sighed tiredly as I walked out of my apartment on a somber Monday morning. I practically had to drag myself around to make it on time to my job. Covering the bags under my eyes had taken longer than I had expected.
It was my fault for staying up late, really. What could I do, though? I loved to watch old reruns and old movies. Those were the side effects of not having a stable relationship. I mean, I went out a lot in dates with guys and I even slept with the ones I got to know well –not that they knew we were not in an exclusive relationship, but I did not really care about them.
They just bored me to death. It was hard to find someone that kept my interest going for more than a couple of weeks. All they cared about was sex, anyway. I had not met that one exciting guy yet. One that would make me want to leave all the other ones behind. So, The Breakfast Club for the twentieth time on a Sunday night it was.