A conditional crisis: You know, back in the days when I was younger, more nave and perhaps more

optimistic , I used to wake up thinking: If I meet my perfect match today, Ill know exactly what to do-Ill either sweep them off their feet in the first few weeks of knowing each other or Ill let myself be swept off MY feet by them, whatever But as it happened, in fact, if I met a likely candidate in those days, always found out within a couple of weeks that there was some kind of unbridgeable incompatibility between us. Nowadays , if I meet someone who seems vaguely suitable, I get a kind of sinking feeling in my stomach right from the start because I now know how easily things can turn sour-I know that if I do take a chance, Im putting myself at risk of further heartbreak, complications, recriminations.. and all that. How different things would only be if I had that perfect partner right here by my side; if I had somehow managed to find them, I wouldnt be here, lying on a mangy old carpet, staring at a mouldy old ceiling; Of course, you might say that if I was less of a perfectionist , I might well have found that special someone long agoor you might, with some justification, point out that if I had taken more risks on that front, then I would have given myself more of a chance. Look, I can see your eyes starting to glaze over, so, if Im boring you, just let me know and well call it an evening You know how it is: if Ive had a bit too much to drink, I always get a bit maudlin like this.. Look, unless youve got a really cracking joke or something to tell me, why dont we make a move. Its late already as it is