As Good as it Gets

I’m writing this on the subway.  My elbows are strategically angled so as not to irritate my seat-mate.  My battery may not last much longer, so I will tell my story quickly:

So I’m at the top of my game.  My jeans are falling down (no kidding... when I rise from a seated position, my pants drop to reveal  that no man’s land just south of the tailbone); my balancing skills are up (as evidenced by my ability to do my entire workout today while on the bosu ball- of course the fact that I even know what a bosu ball is speaks volumes as well ); my core is stronger (push-ups and planks no longer put the fear of God in me); my  cardio has improved due to my daily 60 minute walks which are ‘uphill both ways’ (as the old joke goes); and I kinda like my new hairdo after all.  So I’m feeling good, feeling like maybe I’m not such a bad catch after all*, feeling like a night on the town.... and my sleepover girlfriend calls to cancel our grand plans for tonight due to illness.  Pfff! Out goes the air from my balloon.   I was demoralized because I don’t often look in the mirror and like what I see, so it’s a terrible waste of a ‘high self-esteem moment’  to put on my jammies, stay indoors and cuddle with my dog.  I was stricken with that “all dressed up and no place to go feeling” - that worst of all Friday night ailments. Refusing to be outdone by the whims of fate, I called an old male friend and suggested we go together to the restaurant I’d been intending to go to with my girlfriend.  He was on his way to see an art exhibit by himself (his friend having bailed on him too) and suggested we join up for the evening.

To make a long story short, I had a delightful evening, chatting up artists and pretending to know something about art appreciation; followed by beer, dinner and interesting conversation. Ours is a platonic friendship, always has been/always will be; nevertheless it felt nice to be out with a good looking man, and to remember how it felt to belong to the world of couples for a few hours.

It also reminded me that I should probably consider an “Ode to the Men in my Life”, because I have reconnected with some male cousins and old male friends; not to mention my very special brother-in-law and nephew- all of whom have been affirming and caring.

I do think that it will always feel strange to go home alone at the end of an evening with a man.  I loved that about being married.  The best part of date night was coming home together afterwards and knowing that there was more fun to be had. 

So I’m on way home now and I’m writing this blog on the subway with my laptop balanced on top of my purse which is perched on my lap.(I actually think the guy standing beside my seat is reading this over my shoulder.  Should I look up now and see if his mouth is twitching as he reads about himself?) 

My dog will be waiting for me at the door, and I’ll have that wonderful dilemma of deciding who gets to sleep with me- my dog or my cat.  How blessed am I?!

*I need to condense and bottle this feeling so that I can spray it all over when the next self esteem crisis strikes.