Is the grass always greener?

In the last 48 hours, I've had two friends tell me their relationships aren't going that well, or at least not lately, in response to my expressions of jealousy. They are jealous of me and my recent dating success. Having spent a lot of time in a crummy shitty relationship, I can relate, but I have to say this: if I have a heart attack or something at home, there's no one else here to call the ambulance, not even a cat to eat my face a few days later. Imminent Ex and I are in the throes of shambolic DIY divorce proceedings and we still had a pretty nice last date because, once upon a time, we had feelings for each other and we still know each other frighteningly well. (OK, Canlis helped, too.) I miss that.

Went out to Substation last night in a ridiculous amount of Pride gear. I Goth up for raves; I gay up for straight spaces. Not bad: Dane Wilson definitely had his moments, and they had an old school room. An attractive woman as tall as I am complimented me on my Pride leggings in the bathroom, so of course I spent the rest of the right wondering, 'Is she or isn't she?' Me? Greedy? Yup. See above. I hit the wall early, which is a fine segue into the next paragraph.

My bedroom window has blinds that aren't so good at blocking light, and what's worse is that my building is on the outside of a curve in a small arterial: headlights into my bedroom. I've been sleeping with a leather bondage mask since I moved in here, and it isn't always convenient. I finally got some pieces of black foam board yesterday and cut it to size. They work beautifully. I slept eight hours last night. Let there be darkness!

ETA: Zuckerberg's data mine informs me that queer or not, the lady above is a little more into the woo than I generally find comfortable. I'm not heartbroken.