Let’s be real here: I think the divorce rate is up to some crazy high percentage.  50%?  60%?  Basically, as you are walking down the aisle, half your guests are thinking “What’s the over/under on the longevity of this union?  And will there be tequila at the reception?”

Think about it this way: you give the best years of your thighs (not to mention your dewy no-need-for-Botox complexion) to someone there’s only a 40% chance you will stay with forever.  (Sidenote:  Dermatologists should team up with the courthouse.  The back of your marriage license application should have a picture of thighs unaffected by childbirth or gravity, and a forehead without that stupid line between your eyes that everyone gets because you end up so angry at your cellulite.  Caption: “Are you ready to give away your most precious gifts?” I mean, I mourned the loss of these things way more than my virginity.

Anyway, fast forward to post-divorce dating.  There really isn’t a more torturous life event, except for maybe having your entire E-cart wiped out during the SAKS one-day sale because some broad was quicker than you to push the “Complete Purchase” button.  So.  A few pro-tips:

1)  Don’t even bother.  Not unless you are prepared for the type of humiliation and degradation typically reserved for The Bachelor contestants.  Example: You’re getting dropped off at home, where your kids are fast asleep and the babysitter is taking selfies.  Things get a little bow-chicka-wow-wow in the front seat.  As you contemplate whether you can get rid of the babysitter and risk your kids walking in on an real-life episode of Scandal, you decide to embrace your inner Olivia Pope and throw yourself into the drivers seat.  Unfortunately, because your body now has the flexibility of a candy cane, you slice open your forehead on the rearview mirror.  Nothing says GAME OVER like a bloody face (except maybe “If you weren’t chosen, say your goodbyes and leave immediately”).

2)  While tempting to buffer a date with a few cocktails, remember: You are not 23.  There is a formula for your hangover once you hit 30: {# of shots +  # of OMG I LOVE THIS SONGs = # days your hangover will last.}  And while the Kardashians may be able to live it up all night inhaling vodka infused with the breath of newborn babies, they also have Vitamin B drips next to their beds and Glam Squads to bring them back to life.  You?  Have a bottle of Tums and a $9.99 bottle of Neutrogena moisturizer.

3)  Daniel Craig is not real.  Once the opportunity to date is available to you, you suddenly think: Yesssss no more beer guts or balding!  I will go to the beach and Daniel Craig will saunter out of the water, notice my stunning Bond-girl beauty, and his abs and I will happily ever after!  Ladies, if a grown man has even TWO sculpted abdominal muscles, he also has a boyfriend named Percy.

© Calling All Cool Moms 2015