The after New Year blahs

Five views.

Match.com said the Christmas drought was over. January 3 is the busiest online dating day of the year. Just hang on. The games will resume shortly. Have faith.

And after all the hype, and excitement and anticipation that the drought was over on January 3, I received five views. And one of them was the nurse who didn't return my text after the first date, so he doesn't even count. He probably hit the view button by mistake.

Make that four views.

This is a little underwhelming, especially since I've only had 15 views since January 1. And nine of those were on Saturday, January 2.

It made me want to crunch the numbers. Exactly, what is my rate of return from my Match.com subscription?

 September 1, 2015 was my start date,  so I've 18 full weeks of service. In that time, my profile has been viewed 2,189 times. Out of those, I've received 15 winks which is less than one percent return, which sucks.

I did get seven favorites, but only one out of seven was a real person. Since the one was a ding dong, (See "The Chef") I usually don't answer favorites.

Finally, I rated 93 "Likes". Only five were confirmed real, which is five percent which is more than I expected.

I've exchanged email with 17 and talked on the phone with seven. And I've been out on dates with three different men. Two made it to round two but that's as far as its gotten. So my batting average out of 2,189 potential dates is .001 percent.  That's not one percent. That's one tenth of a percent. It's got to get nine more percentage point to get out of that gutter.

Depressing stats. It's a good thing that I can't calculate my odds of finding Mr. Right now in this calendar year. I'm sure push me into a diet of ice cream and chocolate cake after seeing that I am more likely to get sprayed by a skunk than find a man that I want to date and who wants to date me.

So what's a girl to do with data like that?

Go to the gym to meet men, says my son.

True. Men go to the gym. I've always seen all ages of men when I worked out on a regular basis. It sounded promising, but then there's the problem that if you go to the gym, you have to work out...and get sweaty. No more  watching TV while cuddling with the dog.

Yuck.

I went anyway and had plenty of men to look at while sweat plastered my hair to my head. Oh, yes, the "mascara runny eyed red face" look is not one of my best, so I don't expect a whole lot of interest from anybody unless we interact  before the elliptical.

Not to mention the classes.

Working out in a class is a good way to meet people. It's one of the best ways to meet people at the Y. After all the working, sweating, moaning and groaning through a good class is bonds you together like a cardio Band of Brothers (and Sisters).

My ever helpful son tells me that he found a class where I can target the Baby Boomer. "Arthritis H2O."

Thanks, buddy.

He also gave me motivation to find my inner bodybuilder.

"Do you really want to depend on me when you get too weak to do anything."

The thought of that made me wanted me to a set of squats right then and there. My greatest fear in aging is becoming so weak, that I can't get off the potty. Frail people get to the point where it takes 100 percent effort to stand up, so if they slip down below the toilet rim, they have no additional strength to pull themselves out. They are found days later, exhausted, cold and  dehydrated. That is not the way I'm going down, ever. So I've got to work the legs.

Upper body must have attention as well. The muscles work better if they work as a system, as in muscular system. So I've got to work that core assist the legs in holding up the spine, shoulders and head as I'm trying to get out of the loo.

Crap. Why isn't laying around and cuddling the dog a fitness option here?