Good small talkLikes happy hour Has a son- age 4 Smelled kind of weird Nice A few awkward silences Overall rating out of 10: 5Unfortunately, this was how my notes had been lately. Bachelors 3, 4, and 5 were pleasant, but not as amazing as bachelor 1 or as horrible as bachelor 2. They just seemed like your average men, and the "dates" consisted of similar conversations about nothing in particular. But then... there came bachelor number 6. It was Monday, so I was hoping for an amazing bachelor to kick off my week, similar to how bachelor number 1 had. And thankfully, bachelor number 6 came through. It started off kind of strange- and I wasn't sure my "date" was even going to show up. Ellie had guided me into the elevator, and I held it open while we waited for him. After a minute, she said she was going to go find him. It only took a few seconds longer to feel a male presence enter the elevator. His smooth voice drifted to me, "I'm so sorry I'm late. Traffic was crazy today."

"Cheers ladies!" I said, clinking my shot of tequila against Lydia's and Ellie's. We all downed our shot, and I sucked the juice from my lime like my life depended on it. I wasn't very good at shots. I held back a gag as Ellie struck up conversation. "I can't believe you got stuck in the elevator door," she said, laughing all over again. Just when I thought I'd heard the end of it, it was brought up again. The minute I had returned to my desk, shoes in hand, looking flustered as all hell, my friends launched into their questioning. I relayed most of the story, giving them enough ammo to tease me the rest of the day. But, at least I'd given them all a good laugh. I was hoping they would drop it, but I should have known better with my group of friends.I placed a palm over my face. "Oh god I know. It was mortifying." "What was it like? Having Dakota help you?" Lydia pressed. "It was fucking embarrassing," I laughed, "What do you mean?""No, I mean, what was it like to have his hand

The rest of my weekend went by quickly and without drama. I had spent most of Sunday recapping my 10 bachelors that I had already gone out with, making some decisions about what I was thinking of doing come elimination time. My rough draft of my list went as follows: Bachelor 1- move to round 2Bachelor 2- eliminate! (And maybe report if he keeps showing up places)Bachelor 3- potential Bachelor 4- potential Bachelor 5- potential Bachelor 6- move to round 2Bachelor 7- boring Bachelor 8- move to round 2Bachelor 9- No show = eliminated Bachelor 10- boring Bachelors 1, 6, and 8 were the 3 men that stood out to me the most these last 2 weeks, but the others were just average. I was hoping for more "wow" factor moving into the next 2 weeks, although I wasn't even sure what that meant. This morning I was awake before my alarm, so I had extra time to get ready. I put some fresh curls into my hair, applied a full face of makeup, and slipped into a classy, tight-fitting, blue dress.

This week was one of the longer work weeks I'd had in a long time. After Monday's date, it had really gone downhill. Tuesday's date was sick, so most of the ride he spent coughing, sneezing, and blowing his nose while I backed myself into the far corner. It wasn't his fault... he couldn't help being sick, but it didn't exactly help him win me over. Then on Wednesday, my date had literally tried to kiss me at the end. I could feel the wind as he leaned in, and at the last minute I turned my head, receiving a wet, sloppy kiss on the cheek instead. I wasn't pleased with his advances, but I also didn't feel unsafe at all. I understood it. This guy seemed cocky from our conversation, and although I didn't feel any connection towards him, I understood that he probably didn't hear "no" from women very often. The problem was, I couldn't see him. He had to let his personality do the work for him, and unfortunately, all I picked up on was arrogance. I'm not opposed to kissing men during this

"Ugh..." I groaned and stretched out after turning off my alarm. Getting up the morning after being sick is always the most difficult thing ever. After I got home from work yesterday at literally 10:30 AM, I took 3 ibuprofen, put on my fuzziest pajamas, and slept until I woke up profusely sweating at 5:00 PM. That's right, my fever had broken. I took a shower which made me feel a little bit better, and then moved to my couch where I laid down for another couple hours until there was a knock at my door. I would have panicked had Cole not told me that he DoorDashed me some chicken noodle soup from my favorite Bistro. It was a sweet gesture. He was going to bring it himself but I didn't want to get him sick; and besides, I wasn't feeling up for company. After eating my soup, I fell asleep on my couch while watching Moana, and didn't wake up again until 9, at which point I took a shot of NyQuil, moved back into my bed, and slept uninterrupted until my alarm went off just now. I couldn