Yesterday I had to drop Vehicular off at VW for yet another tiny problem. It appears the airbag harness or something or other decided that now that the warranty has expired, it should break. Isn't that sweet? Because had this happened 3,000 miles ago, I would now be $400 richer. Grrr. Anywho, after that wee debacle and the ultimatum still lingering in the air, I have to confess I was a bit spent last night. To hell with the gym. I said I'd go three days a week, they don't have to be consecutive. I made a few phone calls to see if someone would accompany me to sushi but with HLP in Arizona, Miss Kitty recuperating, my brother needing to be with his own family, my parents going out and Eli working nights and being temporarily suspended from the picture, I was left with nary a dinner date. I guess I could have called Granules... but no. Now what should I do? I am feeling sad and irritated and have the added bonus of being the queen of PMS. Do I nuke a microwave dinner? Eat yet another blue box of mac'n'cheese? Order an entire medium pizza that I know I'll devour, without a doubt, in its entirety? All the while alone with my blue thoughts and bad attitude? Nah. I said fuck it. I picked up my book and headed out the door for a sushi dinner alone. And you know what? It was delicious. It was good to get out of the house. No one shunned me because I was without a partner at the sushi bar. I just sat there and read my book, feeling peaceful and serene.
Moral of that story: Sorry, Three Dog Night. One isn't the loneliest number that you'll ever do.