A Table for One, Please

I treated myself to breakfast this morning. I had some running around to do (my term for chores that take me from K-mart to PetCo to Boscov's to Wegman's) but I decided to go to Friendly's for breakfast first.

Breakfast is my favorite meal to eat out and since Heather moved to Seattle, I really haven't had any "dates" for breakfast. Sunday mornings were mother-daughter time at "St. Perkins" - we'd have coffee, a big breakfast and chat. Now I sometimes meet Donna for breakfast and a couple of times Heather's dad - but that's about it.

And this isn't a "poor me" post, either. I've learned as a single woman, if you don't just go out and do it alone, you will never get out to do it. That's how I took my first trip to England ten years ago - alone. Why wait for that elusive "someone"?

I sat in a booth, had the entire pot of coffee to myself and wrote a to-do list for the morning. I also wrote a few notes about a story I'm writing. Sitting alone with couples and families around me didn't make me sad - it made me think.

I thought about how adaptable I've become and how contented. My therapist asked me why I wasn't looking for the next man in my life. I told her I was basically happy (Then why go to a therapist, you might ask? Good question. J-O-B stress). I love my little apartment full of my collections (dragons, antique hats, witches) and books - hundreds of books. ("Have you read all those books?" my ex-brother-in-law asked once. Uh - yeah.).

I really don't need to say to a man: "You complete me."
I think I'm pretty damn complete as it is.
I wouldn't turn down a loving, intelligent man - make that a loving, intelligent, loyal man.
But I'm not pining away for one, either.

And I have no problem going into a restaurant and saying, "A table for one, please."