... for you may have to eat them.
http://www.softwarenewsdaily.com/2009/12/eat-your-words-americans-consume-over-100000-words-a-day
I have been munching away with great relish, amazement & just a bit of
trepidation for the last few months.
The time is 7 or so years ago.
The place is my old office at the college.
The conversation partner is my dear friend and colleague.
The topic is men.
We are both divorced and dateless.
"I don't care if I ever get married again. I'm getting old & crotchety & set in my ways."
"I know. I'm fine the way I am. I can eat when I want, sleep when I want,
go where I want, whenever I want. I don't have to answer to anyone."
"And my house is too full of crap as it is. I don't want anyone else's stuff in here."
"But, you know, it would be nice to have someone to do things with."
"Yeah, someone to go to dinner & the movies with."
"But not someone here all the time."
"I kind of like being on my own. Don't have to answer to anyone but myself."
And on and on... sour grapes... ad nauseum.
But it was true.
After many years of being on my own, especially now that BS is grown & out of the nest,
I had fallen into a rut of complacency.
Wouldn't use the word 'contentment', because I was lonely a lot.
I'm not a social butterfly. I don't go to bars,
so most evenings I was at home, by myself.
Me & my laptop.
Me & my television.
Me & my books.
Hadn't had a date in more years than I want to admit.
(Please take a moment to wipe away the tears of sympathy rolling down your face. I'll wait...)
Don't get me wrong. I have family in the area. I have friends.
But no friends that I could call on the spur of the moment and say
"Let's go get something to eat",
or
"You wanna go to a movie?"
They are either married or non-local or not very good about returning calls.
But, in April, all that changed. Because of Facebook.
I'm part of an 'us' instead of just 'me'.
And now, my house is full of more stuff.
I cook dinner... occasionally.
Some mornings I even pack his lunch.
I check with him before I make plans.
I greet him at the door... usually... when he comes home.
(fully clothed - don't want to scare him away - and no, I don't wear pearls.)
And I'm very happy about all this.
But, you know, after 20+ years of being on my own and stubbornly independent,
this will take some getting used to, and I'm thinking it may be a comedy of errors on my part...
...navigating the waters of couplehood again.
http://www.softwarenewsdaily.com/2009/12/eat-your-words-americans-consume-over-100000-words-a-day
I have been munching away with great relish, amazement & just a bit of
trepidation for the last few months.
The time is 7 or so years ago.
The place is my old office at the college.
The conversation partner is my dear friend and colleague.
The topic is men.
We are both divorced and dateless.
"I don't care if I ever get married again. I'm getting old & crotchety & set in my ways."
"I know. I'm fine the way I am. I can eat when I want, sleep when I want,
go where I want, whenever I want. I don't have to answer to anyone."
"And my house is too full of crap as it is. I don't want anyone else's stuff in here."
"But, you know, it would be nice to have someone to do things with."
"Yeah, someone to go to dinner & the movies with."
"But not someone here all the time."
"I kind of like being on my own. Don't have to answer to anyone but myself."
And on and on... sour grapes... ad nauseum.
But it was true.
After many years of being on my own, especially now that BS is grown & out of the nest,
I had fallen into a rut of complacency.
Wouldn't use the word 'contentment', because I was lonely a lot.
I'm not a social butterfly. I don't go to bars,
so most evenings I was at home, by myself.
Me & my laptop.
Me & my television.
Me & my books.
Hadn't had a date in more years than I want to admit.
(Please take a moment to wipe away the tears of sympathy rolling down your face. I'll wait...)
Don't get me wrong. I have family in the area. I have friends.
But no friends that I could call on the spur of the moment and say
"Let's go get something to eat",
or
"You wanna go to a movie?"
They are either married or non-local or not very good about returning calls.
But, in April, all that changed. Because of Facebook.
I'm part of an 'us' instead of just 'me'.
And now, my house is full of more stuff.
I cook dinner... occasionally.
Some mornings I even pack his lunch.
I check with him before I make plans.
I greet him at the door... usually... when he comes home.
(fully clothed - don't want to scare him away - and no, I don't wear pearls.)
And I'm very happy about all this.
But, you know, after 20+ years of being on my own and stubbornly independent,
this will take some getting used to, and I'm thinking it may be a comedy of errors on my part...
...navigating the waters of couplehood again.
