There are days when I don't ever want to pick up and read another romance novel again. Days when I don't want to read about characters, who have lives that are either impossibly perfect or just so unrealistic as to not be in any way, shape or form 'normal', finding their HEA. Days when I don't want to read about people who actually have the confidence to say what they think and damn the consequences. Why? Because on such days I can't pretend that HEA exists and that good people do, occasionally, finish first. On such days I can't put on my Pollyanna hat and believe that tomorrow will be a better day (because going on experience it won't be) and that I will be a more self-assured person who will be loved just as I am. And on such days miracles seem...rather short on the ground and I have to admit that if I'm very lucky what I have now is it...because the thought of anything changing for the better seems less than remote...it seems impossible.
So, do you ever have days when you just don't want to read a romance novel?
Note: I know this post is very whiny...but I decided to keep to the spirit of Walkabout, be honest about what I am feeling and express it.