I took a night to myself. A delicious, perfect night. Delicious both in the way of food (of course) and in the mental sense. For my sanity, I looked past most of my mess of a house, put away the dishes that I knew would really get to me, and I soaked up some quietness. I can’t remember the last time I’ve done that. Without anyone around.
Did you know binge eating buttered rum shrimp was good for you? It fills you up with happiness. That and tiny fresh mozzarella balls, drizzled with olive oil, salt, and fresh cracked pepper on top of artisan bread. I envisioned my stomach laughing, stupidly, from all the wonderful food raining on it, which then made me think of Santa’s belly, jiggling like a bowl full of jelly. I was glad I was alone because I, wearing my gym shorts and one of The Chef’s old t-shirts, felt my sexiness level drop about ten points. So I baked a batch of cookies. Cookie dough I had balled up and frozen myself, for easy and fast access.
Now I sit watching movies that makes my soul happy, and read books by the candlelight, with soft piano music from my childhood.
This night just might make my happy place list.