The Over-Educated Nympho

One week from Monday I’m transferring to another department in my office. I’m really really hoping this helps with the I hate my job problem.

This problem? It’s getting really bad. It’s like every other thought in my head is I hate my job or I’m so bored I want to scream.

Today was especially bad. Before I arrived at the office, I was already dreading the eight hours I would have to sit like a good little worker-monkey in my cubicle and pretend to give a fuck. I’m not good at faking it. Apparently the hissing gives me away.

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I’m always talking about how I have completely different criteria for guys I want to date (nice guys) vs the guys I just want to fuck. So here are the two lists. Not that I’m looking for anyone right now, because the guys out there keep pissing me off (OH MY GOD WOULD YOU GROW A PAIR ALREADY). Please note that neither of these lists include “must look like Brad Pitt, drive a sports car, take me out to fancy dinners every week, and speaks four languages.” That’s bullshit. This is what a real list looks like. Some of these are very specific to me, some are general criteria that I think most women would agree with.

What I Want In a Nice Guy
In summary: must be nice, smart, and funny. Good looks are a bonus but not a requirement.

1. Nice. Sweet. A good guy through and through. But not so much that he’s a push-over, ie he will call me on any shit I try to pull (and I will…it’s the “Does he have a spine?” test)
2. Funny. This is absolutely not negotiable. If he can’t make me snort beer out my nose or piss myself from laughing so hard, then how can he expect to hold my attention for more than three dates, let alone a couple years or a lifetime?
3. Intelligent. This does not necessarily mean highly- or over-educated. There are dumbasses who have PhDs and brilliant people who never bothered with college. I mean someone who can hold a decent fucking conversation without making me roll my eyes or pat him on the head.
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There were times when I would sleep on the couch at night.

When he found me in the morning, he’d rub my back until I woke up. When my eyes opened to his concerned face, he’d ask if everything was ok.

“Yeah. I was just having a hard time sleeping last night. I came out here to watch some tv.”

He would smile and kiss my forehead, then go to the kitchen to make us coffee.

I would feel horrible for lying. But I couldn’t tell him the truth, that I needed to not wake up next to him every once in a while.