1. Going out alone. I.e. [sic] seeing a movie by yourself, going to a restaurant alone.
– Urban Dictionary1
2. I don’t want to brag, but I really know how to show myself a good time. – The Nut
You may have noticed, just a little, over the course of reading this blog that people aren’t really my thing, with very few exceptions.
I mean, I love my husband more than words can say. I have a handful of close friends who I will sometimes willingly put on real pants to go out to see. And it’s undeniable that I have a surprisingly strong emotional bond with a continuously increasing number of people on the internet.
It’s just that spending quality time with anyone not listed in the first paragraph above earns me a quick and efficient visit from the Social Anxiety Fairy, and that miserable bitch means business.
Even hanging out with people who ARE included in the Exceptions paragraph above can occasionally trigger a visit from the meddling little harpy; she’s just that determined to ruin my life.
So every so often, just to stick it to her, I schedule a hot date with me and only me. What’s she going to do, fly over and whisper in my ear that I’m boring myself? Bring it.
Maybe I’ll go see a movie that I’ve been wanting to watch in theaters but that I know wouldn’t be Nutty Hubby’s cup of tea.
Speaking of cups of tea, maybe I’ll take myself out for a nice one of those. In my book, nothing says being good to yourself like tiny sandwiches, dainty pastries, and a big pot of Earl Grey.
I’m great company for myself at bird sanctuaries, botanical gardens and aquariums. I can walk at my own pace, enjoy the view at my leisure, take as long as I want getting just the right photo, all without worrying about getting on my companion’s nerves for being too slow or too shutter-happy.
I’m my own best dinner date too. Let the other restaurant patrons think what they want; I’m too busy having a moment with my stuffed conchiglioni over here to care. Maybe I’ll buy myself something extra fancy for dessert. After all, I’m worth it.
I’ve known people who are appalled at my self-admitted masturdation habits. “Couldn’t you find someone to go with you?” they ask, brow furrowed with concern. “I’m sure Nutty Hubby would see that movie he cares nothing about to make you happy!”
Tell me, how happy would it really make me to be dragging my husband to something I know for a fact he wouldn’t enjoy? Do I really want to be that person at the Cineplex whose spouse’s eyes have glazed over because they’d much rather be watching the sci-fi thriller in the next theater than the dramatic Best Picture nominee currently on the screen?
I’ve sat beside that couple more times than I can count. If you ask me, they’re sadder than me being there alone.
You want to waste your money on ballet tickets or monster truck rally admissions or couples’ slimming kelp body mask spa treatments for someone who’s clearly not into it, you do that, and good luck to ya.
But I’ll pass. When I make plans with me, I don’t need no second wheel.
Today’s blog post was brought to you by the letter M, the number 1, and the One Is Not Always The Loneliest Number Challenge, AKA the Blogging A to Z Challenge.
1 “masturdating” UrbanDictionary.com. Urban Dictionary, 2016. Web. 15 April 2016.