This is becoming more painful than a bikini wax at the hands of Attila the Hun.

I am running out of options. I'm like the fat girl one week before prom. Everyone I've asked has turned me down. Anyone who might still be available isn't interested. And the whole time, my mother is in the background telling me how smart and wonderful I am, and how anyone would be lucky to have me.

Actually, come to think of it, this is exactly how I felt for my senior prom. Ahh, those were the days. I never thought I'd be 30 and back to being rejected. Well, my friends, life has a funny way of throwing us curveballs. Welcome to Loserville. Population: Me. I guess the silver lining to this whole scenario is that should I snag a 'suitor' late in the game, I won't have to rush out and buy a dress.

I've been playing this little game of 'tease me' on the phone with a recruiter from a fairly prominent insurance company. We've been taking turns. First, I applied for a local job, but he feels I would be a better fit for a position in Boston. "Aw shucks," I say, and gently turn him down, but with enough charm to keep him coming back.

Now it's his turn. He called me tonight. This time, there's a position available in my state, but it's 6 hours west of where I live. "Are you interested?" he asks. I tell him I am. He needs me to throw him a bone and I need to feel like someone is interested in me. We're doing a mutual stroking of egos, if you will. He pretends I'm qualified and I pretend it's my dream job. It's much like Stripping, Corporate America-style. He throws a dollar my way and I act like he's the only guy in the room. The only things missing are the glitter and cheap perfume.

Pride? Dignity? Believe me, they've got nothing to do with it.