Single Minded

I won't lie: I'd like to be in a relationship right now. But the reality is that I'm not, and I'm fine with it. Actually, it's quite nice.

Case in point: last weekend I had an unfortunate cooking incident involving pancakes (don't ask), so this morning when I woke up, I decided I didn't want to mess around with imperfection. I got in my car and drove to a place where I knew I could have good griddle cakes: IHOP. In Harvard Square, of all places. I took a magazine with me, and I sat there at my table, alone, eating my breakfast. And I was happy. (It wasn't the first time I've dined by myself, either.) Spur of the moment idea, instant activity. No one to convince, no one to stop me. And sure enough, the pancakes were tasty and I was content. With no other place to be, I walked off my meal by wandering around the Square, popping into one store or another, stopping to browse a magazine or two at the Out-of-Town newsstand. I even hung out at a farmer's market. And when I was ready, I left.

Yesterday, I had a similar kind of day. I needed an activity, so because the weather was so nice, I decided to go on a drive — all the way to the Stoughton Triangle, my name for the intersection where you'll find IKEA, Costco, and Jordan's Furniture all next-door to each other. Yes, the last time I went to IKEA, I was let down, but so what? Even if all I did was have lunch, it would still have been something to do. So I got in my car, rolled down the windows, turned up the radio and went. Thankfully, I found what I needed (and then some), and I had a tasty lunch as well. Then I had a tasty "snack" at Costco, and after buying a thing or two, I meandered my way back to the city. Mission accomplished.

When you're single and unattached, with no obligations, you can do such things. You keep your own schedule, going where you want to go, doing what you want to do, and doing it when you want to do it. And sure, maybe I'm a little too used to it at this point — it's probably not such a good thing to be so comfortable hanging out solo at age 35 — but do you see me complaining?