I spent an evening by myself.
I don't know, there are probably many out there who do that all the time, but for me, it NEVER happens. I'm always filling up my evenings so that I'm doing this, doing that, going here, going here. Always with someone, never by myself. My alone time never begins until 10:30 at night, at the earliest.
So while I could have done something Thursday night, I decided to opt out and try something different. It had been a horrible day at work. Joey has been especially frantic this past week, I'm horribly off deadline for my publication, and I'm not getting any closer to resolution on that because I keep kept drawn into other projects that appear to be more important.
So Thursday, after I got out of work, I drove out of the building, took a right, and ended up at Michael's , then Bed, Bath, and Beyond . And I took my time and ultimately purchased two prints and two frames, then drove to the supermarket, bought myself a REAL dinner (something I actually had to cook), which I then made for myself as I spent the evening framing and hanging my prints...and they look pretty good in the place, if I do say so myself.
One is hanging over my bed, and it ties in perfectly with my twinkling Christmas lights and candles and the string of memories strewn across the room. It's a painting of a woman with long golden hair weaving a dreamcatcher in an improbable fairy world. The other painting fits in with the art deco style I'm trying to establish in the living room--a large grinning black cat, with bold red print. Now I just need something over the couch and I'll be doing all right.
I did make a few calls throughout the night--to the Robster, to Josie, to my Dad...and I didn't exercise, which I should have, or write. But all in all, an excellent adventure all around.