There is something so romantic to me about the idea of dining alone at a restaurant. I do it as often as I can, and my love for the solo meal deepens with every experience. I love to sit Indian-style in a booth – alone – and watch the other patrons, play around on my cell phone, read a book, or just stare at my food. Maybe it’s the fat girl in me, but that is about as close to meditation as I can get. Things sound different when you are by yourself. Even the most hectic places feel serene when it’s just you, your plate and the world around you.
I adore George. I adore him for so many things, but one of the chart toppers is his understanding of my love of alone time. I have spent the last 38-ish days working like a dog (dramatic enough for you???) and the therapy I wanted… no, the therapy I craved was that which can only be found with complete and total solitude. This semi-level headed girl can become a bit of a nut job without several hours of “me” time every once in a while, and bow at my husband’s feet for recognizing and obliging. He headed to Tampa for the weekend to see Dave, Brendan, and Colleen. Bless you, George.
So, this weekend wasn’t unlike most of my solo dates… sushi takeout…. twice, Adoption Stories on TLC, dog walks, chocolate covered popcorn, two hour gossip sesh’s with Casey and mi madre, Real Housewives, tub scouring, an hour at Borders, Bringing Home Baby marathons on Discovery Health, and finally, chorizo queso and chips and salsa (the fuel for my soul). Anyone jealous??? :-)
Now that I’m done “finding my center”, I’m ready for the ‘ol ball & chain to make his way North and come home to me. I like to be alone and all, but that dude is the most fun! :-)
