I realised the other day - I genuinely don't miss it. I thought by now, after six weeks, I'd be squirming and antsy and desperate to give my booty buddy a call. But no. I haven't stopped giving myself a treat every now and then, but to be honest the thought of having to de-fuzz myself and get dressed up and act all sexy and contort myself into different positions while some guy tries and fails to start my car...I just can't be bothered (to clarify, in the past that was my idea of a perfect Saturday night). These days I'd rather have my bed to myself and get a decent night's sleep.
Can't decide if I'm getting old, or if I'm finally growing up.
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