My Old Routine

So, one of the things I loved about being single was the fact that everybody else in the world was getting ready to go out on a Saturday night and I didn't have to. Seriously. Women everywhere were stressing out about what to wear, make-up, hair, would they get laid, heels versus wedge... And I could do whatever I wanted.

This Saturday I was very refreshed. No work on Friday allowed me to decompress. It seemed like eons since I had just enjoyed my coffee with a good book and watched the day float by. Little bit of actual housework helped me feel productive. My friend from work and her boyfriend came to the house in the evening and we laughed all night. It had been ages too, since I felt like I really participated in conversation instead of riding the wave, trying to keep up and always crashing.

So Saturday was pure joy. I slept in, more reading and housework. When dusk settled, I thought "What do I do now?" I had an antsy half moment when I missed Work Guy. Really just wanted to curl up in his arms. But I shook my head like a dog, grinned like the Cheshire and headed to the shower. I was going to do the thing I loved most. Buy books.

This is the plan: Go the Changing Hands to pick up the third and fourth book in the series I started. Walk over to Trader Joes for veggie corn dogs, fruit and hummus. Come home, read one of my new books and dance around the house like a crazy free person. I could hardly contain my excitement.

Plans get fucked up. It is the law.

I walked into Changing Hands, looked around for 13 seconds when a helpful guy asked if he could find what I was looking for. Fiction. Lili St. Crow. He had the audacity to doubt my spelling. He skipped off to find my goods, came back looking less helpful. His shoulders sagged and he had this strange look of dismay.

"We don't have them.. It was in teen fiction." He all but sneered. I gave him my best blank look. I really don't care if it is teen, child, grandma, or fast approaching thirty. Fiction is fiction asshole. "We can order them and have it in by Tuesday.."

"I will just go someplace else. Thanks." Subtitle: I wouldn't buy a book from you, ageist.

I went to Target, their measely selction of books made me want to vomit. I strolled around the store looking at other crap and ran into an old friend. Back in the day when Work Guy was literally harrassing me to date him I made a point of stating my independence. When he asked who I had to cuddle up with at night, keep me warm, I had replied that I had a body pillow and a heating pad. All true. However, when we started sleeping together, he moved the body pillow to the floor and the heating pad was a moot point. Now, here I stood contemplating another body pillow.

I all but skipped out of the store with it.

An hour later I had my book and some hummus and, of course, beer. My evening was tinged with some sadness now, though. I had been relegated back into my old ways because, in truth, I had never really given them up. Part of me knew I would be alone again and therefore didn't feel the need to give in entirely. I had fought for some kind of control. In all honesty, Work Guy had only ever wanted the challenge, the reward. It was not ME he was looking for.

So I cuddled into the warmth of my bed that night and cried.