Well, here we are, gang--the oft dreaded, much ballyhooed, nauseatingly over-hyped Valentine's Day. I'm not sure what you guys are doing this evening, but me--I'm here eating wonton soup out of a plastic container, drinking a glass of cold pinot grigio, and trying to figure out if I want to tackle work projects or my book tonight, before popping a Tylenol PM at approximately 9:15 pm, and sliding into bed for a sweet eight hours of solid Zzz's.
Exactly one year ago yesterday I posted an entry called Tonight I Dream in Pink, and in that posting I wrote about the idea of being good to yourself on Valentine's Day, taking control of your own happiness + owning your life. Of course I had no idea at that time where my own life would take me; no one can predict the future, and I'm no exception. Last February I was married, and lived in a big home, in a town where I had put down roots, and where my closest friends were just up the street, and right around the corner. Little did I know that seven months later I would be living alone--away from that familiar town, and my friends, and my home, and my possessions--in a tiny cottage in a town where I probably know four people by name. And, while I realize that to many who are reading this, what I just wrote might seem very pitiful and sad, it's truly and honestly not. Because I set out on this journey to become not only the person I want to be, but the person I need to be + was destined to be. I am owning my life.
Tonight I own my life by not freaking out at the fact that I am eating wonton soup out of a plastic container on Valentine's Day. Instead I am celebrating the fact that I have chosen to spend this evening doing just that.
What I want to do.
When I want to do it.
And how I want to do it.
I'll take independence, and autonomy, and confidence, and spontaneity over chocolates and roses any day.