I’m single, which doesn’t really bother me, since I’m 22 and figure I have ample time to find the love of my life. (By which I mean, the human love of my life, because I don’t think either television or my pets count.) Still, when you are single, people tend to ask you why you’re single, as if it’s an unnatural state of being you must answer for. It’s inevitable that this sort of questioning leads to self-examination, which inevitably leads to worrying. Oh gosh, you realize, there are so many things wrong with you. How will anyone ever love you? Will you ever find anyone that looks at your strangely-shaped feet or large collection of vintage knitting patterns? (Disclaimer: I do not own vintage knitting patterns. My feet, however, are shaped like Kermit the Frog’s.)
And it is, when I feel like this, that I enjoy watching The Marriage Ref.