Signs, red flags, signals, call them what you will, but for a woman there are some undeniably worrying behaviours that tell the world and more importantly yourself that you need to get off, on someone, asap. Enough is enough. Your vagina's just something you use to pee - occasionally you may wander down there and have a fiddle, only to lose interest when you realise you can only fantasize about an ex from six years ago that you didn't EVEN like, (a) fuck, is most needed.
It's not just the physical side that grates on you of course. The interaction with a male who you also know wants to play with your boobs is sorely missed in the years of singledom, as is attention of any kind, so much so you may (and this is clearly not me), talk to randoms in the hope of filling a conversational gap that day. OKAY, I've been there, through choice I utterly loved and embraced life as a single lady, apart from the final dregs right before the end when you feel like the UPS driver picking up your mobile phone could have potential.
Below are some of my favourite 'signs' that you're too far gone for your own good. If you like, why not count up how many you may be currently experiencing, and then get the hell out there, right now.
Any physical contact excites you
The brush of a stranger in the Post Office queue, a personal trainer at the gym helping you with your stance, or even the sweet old lady who does your Chinese massage. You can't help it, it's the touch, and any touch feels like home, heaven, a brief reminder of past sexy times and a beacon of hope that lets you know you are in fact alive and can still feel. PHEW.
You look up near misses and just know they could have worked
He was an arrogant dick, totally gorgeous and knew it, plus he knew you fancied him. He played with your emotions, and nothing else because he was too busy shagging everyone else. Surprisingly he's still single? NO. Stop it.
You get emotional at teen movies and rom-coms
You well up over The Wedding Date (vomit), shed actual tears for Seventeen Again, imagine being Drew Barrymore in Ever After, wish you could sing Bennie and the Jets with James Marsden in 27 dresses, and feel a wave of jealously when Jude Law rolls up at Cameron Diaz's door in The Holiday. Even that God-awful film, Music and Lyrics sees you rooting for Drew and Hugh to be together, you're a mess. I mean Jesus, pull it together, before it's too late.
You only shave for your smear test
I actually used the line, "I've shaved just for you!" with my legs akimbo while awaiting the speculum from my nurse. She was very appreciative, but when this is the only time you feel compelled to tidy up and proudly admire the view of your home-styled neat bush, you're just one step away from point number five.
You fart in the isles of Tesco and don't sweat it
Like you know anyone, like you CARE. You've been single for SO long you could fart in a lift with Alexander Skarsgard and look him in the eye as you release. Your fanny farts at the gym even make you laugh, yeah. That'll probably need to stop if you ever want a man to find you sexually attractive again.
You think about Zac Efron, too much
This may be a specialist one for me but as Seth Rogen stated in Bad Neighbours, his "arms look like two veiny dicks," say no more, leave me be.
Any man at the gym has potential, any
Similar to a cabin fever crush on a work colleague you wouldn't ever want to see naked in the real world, when you're pounding away on the cross trainer suddenly any man becomes attractive. Non of them are your 'type,' and you certainly wouldn't pick those track pants for a potential lover, but as sweat and boredom collide anything with more chest hair than you suddenly has potential to be the best thing you never had.
You make friends with the baristas at your local Starbucks
They know your drink order by heart, spell your name right and ask how that thing went at the weekend. They know way too much about you girlfriend, and secretly know you haven't done it in ages - harsh but true.
You openly scratch your lady parts, what?
No one's been interested in your sex parts for years so they're not sexual anymore, and a scratch is a scratch no? No. Being bold as anything on Oxford Street reaching for a flap scratch is a comfort move too far, signaling to the world that you've totally forgotten you're a woman. Stop it right now and go watch Sex and the City.