Sitting in the corner, looking over the room, I feel pretty darn good. I am sweaty from a full day of volunteering in the hot sun. I am gritty from the dirt blown around in the wind. I am exhausted just thinking about the drive home. I feel good.
Sounds silly to say I feel good after telling you all the reasons I should feel bad. Certainly a dirty, sweaty, exhausted mess would feel like a dirty, sweaty, exhausted mess. Oh, I do. I feel downright icky. And only slightly embarrassed to be in public in such a dirty state.
But, I am hungry and I have a long drive ahead and I didn’t have time for my weekly coffee chat.
Instead, I am sipping a strawberry milkshake.
It is something I don’t allow myself often these days because I am trying to be healthier, but I am doing something I rarely do. Especially not on a Saturday night. Especially not in a strange town. Especially not in a new restaurant.
I am eating alone.
I don’t even have a book.
But, I have a strawberry milkshake. It is sweet, cold goodness in a cup after working in the heat all day.
The strawberries keep getting stuck in my straw, and that’s entertainment enough right now. I don’t need a distraction from the fact that I am eating alone.
It feels good to be alone in a strange town in a new restaurant on a Saturday night. Usually, I don’t eat alone in the evening. I’ll do it during the day with some sort of crutch. Most likely a book, but sometimes my computer or even a pen and paper. For this meal, I even put my phone away. Well, after I took a photo.
So, for Weekend Coffee, there is no coffee. There is no chatting. There is only me. Me and my milkshake with strawberries stuck in my straw.
Until next time…