Friendly people. It is the 22nd of January (I think--I lose track of the numbers sometimes), and I'm just now cashing in on my date with myself. It took 3 Thursdays to get to this moment, and it feels oh so, so excellent.
Aside--someone's in my chair again. This time it's actually a couple of fellows, and they're pretty permanently attached to my spot, it appears. I found a snifty little space heater spot by the big windows so I can both get a rotating bit of heat and watch cold people shuffle by out-o-doors. Win-win for a no-win situation.
And I ate a cupcake. 'Cause it's a date with myself. And I'm a big spender on dates.
Not really. The cupcake was free since it's my birthday month. I'm actually more of a cleverly disguised thrifty non-big spender on dates. I love me for that.
The date almost took a turn for the sad worst of times when it took about 30+ minutes for my laptop to get over its morning grumpies and wake up. Sometimes, I bring someone else on the date with me as an awkward 3rd wheel.
If I wasn't dating myself, I wouldn't be getting any dates lately. It's been a few months since the boy and I have ditched the kids (sitter-style, not literally...) and escaped for an uninterrupted bite to eat. Which is when we either talk about kids or money. We're nothing if not romantic. And I still wolf my food down as if poised for the next kid-calamity. Then I look up and realize that I'm done with everything on my plate and the boy is still like "Hmm, I wonder if I will enjoy my meal because I've only taken one bite." So I eat some of his food, too. Share and share alike, just don't try to eat my food. I kid.
You know what gets me about going out to eat with the boy? He's ever so polite about sharing, something like "May I have a bite of your delicious something or other? I will wait patiently until you answer before I tentatively reach across the table and take a delicate bite off of the side." We've been together for 13 years, and he hasn't figure this out yet. Just take a bite, dangit. I do, unabashedly. I know that he's going to share with me. He knows that I'm going to share with him. We often (always) plan accordingly to get coordinating meals that we're both interested in so as to share with each other. We're not at a tea party, boy.
See what I'm doing here? I'm on a date with myself, and I'm talking about the boy (and my kids). It could very well be that I'm something of an underwhelming date.