Dating with ADD: Mr. Cheapo vs. Shy Boy

I officially buried the betta fish last night. Over the past few days, it had been acting funky, sinking to the bottom of the tank like a submarine, refusing to be enticed by blood worms. Then last night I found it on its side, no longer breathing. Even though the fish never said a word to me, I found myself increasingly attached to it, talking to it as if it were human.

A friend joked that any time you name something you get attached, whether it be a plant, a chair, or even a pair of chopsticks. It humanizes an object or thing. So I stared at the dead fish and started crying as I flushed it down the toilet. The sadness was a small price to pay for loving something.

The dating game continues as I've whittled the laundry list of a dozen candidates to two. There is Mr. Cheapo. I call him that because after a month of dating him I realize that he will literally spend a half an hour or more winding around the streets seeking free parking rather than settling for a coined meter or a parking lot. And he packs breakfast and lunch to work, including milk in a jar for the cereal. Stick in the mud comes to mind. I have images of an unhappy marriage where he'd be calculating the number of toilet paper sheets on X and Y rolls to see what would be a bargain. Then there is the part of me that is very impatient—maybe ADD, maybe I'm hypoglycemic as my Ph.D scientist friend thinks. I did everything I could to stop myself from screaming, "Stop winding around, I will pay for the parking for god's sake!"

I also continue dating the quiet and timid and somewhat geeky grade school teacher. Despite his awkwardness and "shy boy" persona, he feels safe, predictable, and is able to tolerate my tsunami-like mood swings. The father, who is now desperate to get me down the aisle, says that both are great candidates. He's sent a collage of these guys’ photos to the grandmother who is getting very worried that I will never make it down any aisle but the supermarket's. I wish these people would chill.

As for ADD, once in a blue moon I will wonder what would happen if I told a date that I have ADD. Would he run away, would it be a litmus test to see how much he loves me? Just wondering, though I'm too much of a wimp to do so.