Kvetch 22

Winter.

Besides getting to wear my favorite cozy clothes covering my entire body and a multitude of sins, I pretty much dread this time of year. They say the holiday season is a season of miracles. Although it’s just past, quite honestly, if there are any left-over miracles, I could use one or two right now.

While I’ve never been officially diagnosed, I think I might have Seasonal Affective Disorder.

I think I may also have HOA Condo Living Affected Disorder (I seriously have got to sell my condo and move), and might as well throw in, The World’s Gone Mad All Year Long Affected Disorder.

The list goes on.

Meanwhile...

This holiday season I found myself attending the usual festive get-togethers indulging in far too many bites of empty calories, greeting once a year acquaintances and saying, “We should get together” knowing the likely hood of that happening between now and next year’s jamboree is pretty much nil.  All the while trying my best to find a few laughs to help me through the darkness of the daily 4:30 pm sunset, which only acerbates my inability to drive well after dark. Forget driving altogether if it’s raining and nighttime.

I think my sour mood or let’s just call is Seasonal Affected Disorder is playing into my dating life as well.

The last man I matched up with on Hinge/NYC certainly seemed to be a gentleman. Mind you, not a Gentile man, an actual Jewish dentist from New Jersey. I could practically see my mom applauding from the grave, may she rest in peace. Finally, a Jewish doctor!

However. Yes, there is a however, I think I blew it. How many things can I blame on Seasonal Affected Disorder? Let’s see!

On our first phone FaceTime call before meeting in person, I found myself saying out loud that I’d prefer meeting in person because phone calls are most likely just wasting my time until we meet up. To which he politely questioned, “Wasting your time?” Now, while I stick to what I said, it probably was one of those thoughts best left unsaid.

And it doesn’t end there.

When he contacted me to meet up in person and was making plans to do so, he made a lovely comment that although he was having trouble making reservations at the restaurant I preferred, the meeting up was the more important part of the date. To which I replied, and yes, I said these words out loud, “Let’s just get it over with.”

Amazingly, he did show up. He did casually mention at dinner that it probably would have been nicer had I said I looked forward to meeting him rather than “Let’s just get it over with.” I agreed. Surprise surprise, after that meet and greet, I’ve not heard from him since.

So, at the last holiday party I attended where we played that gift exchange game called, “Dirty Santa” where the gifts were by no means indiscreet, we were asked to introduce ourselves to everyone when it was our turn to pick a gift. At my turn to play, I said, “Hi, I’m Carrie. I write a column called, “Kvetch in the City” and proceeded to go on a little ramble/rant about how when I started writing the column it appeared I was meeting men from writing the column, however, once I wrote about said men, the whole thing seemed to backfire on me. At which point, some clever guy in the back of the room yelled out, “Seems like you’re in a Kvetch 22.”

Got that right.

Hey, here’s an idea.

Maybe I can kill two birds with one stone.

Move to Norway, Sweden, Finland, Alaska, Antarctica, Iceland, Greenland, Nunavut, Canada or Yakutsk, Russia. I mean, I know it’s not NYC however it stays light in those places practically all year round. With my self diagnosed Seasonal Affected Disorder in check and a fresh start, maybe I’ll meet a Jewish doctor who I won’t be tempted to write about in my column.

Here's to miracles.