I am so seldom alone and while I rationally understand this must be, no is, the result of a specific construct I create in my life it often doesn’t feel that way, seeming more akin to a giant tidal wave that picks me up and carries me along. While this is generally fun, and can be exhilarating at times, there is also that moment when the ocean swallows you up and tumbles you in its depths, dumping you unceremoniously on the shore with sand in your bathing suit, scrapes on your knees, and a bruise to your ego.
So this Saturday with Matt happily off to the mountain, a pork shoulder marinating in the oven for yet another round of Paseo’s Cubano Sandwiches for tonight’s book club, and Leo and Duke, the two puppies wildly running about, I have a day alone in front of me. It is so rare, and while I’m excited at the thought, I must also confess it makes me a little uncomfortable.
What do you do with a blissful day all to yourself? I could use some guidance here people.