just one, please.

I didn’t realize how liberating it would be to say, “Just one, please.”

If you read my happiness is: guest post on Pretty*Swell, then I’m sure you have been eagerly awaiting this post.

Whenever I hear that someone in my family is eating alone – I feel so sad. So sad, in fact, that I almost start crying. (I know, I’m ridiculous.) The crazy part is that they are not sad at all about it – they love it! It gives them time to read or write alone. No distractions.

I have no problem doing things alone. I’m independent. Really. I swear. There is just something about eating at a restaurant alone ::gulp:: that I just can’t handle. (BTW, that ‘gulp’ was a pun. Intended.) Maybe I’m such an extrovert that it pains me not to be interacting with someone… Anyone! If I’m working on my laptop and eating, it’s cool. I’m cool. My computer is my security blanket. And with IM, Twitter, Facebook, etc… I’m only one ‘h’ and one ‘i’ away from a convo.

So, I was eating alone as I wrote this post. It was done the good ol’ fashioned way – pen to paper. And guess what? I felt great about it. The food was great, the service was great, there weren’t any distractions. And, I kinda liked thinking that people thought I was writing something wicked important.

Do any of you like to eat at a restaurant alone or perhaps need to overcome the fear like I did?

My next feat. Going to the movies by myself. Gasp!

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