Largely this is because the Mathematician has been working a lot this week. Though he works hard and is supremely talented at what he does, the Mathematician is not one of those people who "works a lot". He pulls the occasional late night at the office here or there, but his job isn't the kind of job where you have to put in a lot of "face time" or screw around and be at the office "just because" for certain hours of the day. The Mathematician usually begins his work day sometime in the 10 a.m. hour, for example. And rarely is he not ready to pick me up by 7 or 8 p.m. at the latest on a school night, and spend his entire evening buying me dinner or watching a movie with me or somehow else basking in my loveliness .
This week, however, I have seen neither hide nor hair of the Mathematician, because he has been on a deadline that seems to me to have popped up out of nowhere, and has kept him at the office until all hours of the night. Like 3 a.m. in the morning all hours, which is later than most of my fellow restaurant employees end up coming home, and very unusual for a 9-5'er, n'est-ce pas? This means I have been a work widow all week, with the exception of this evening, Friday night, the night that most couples are out having date night, at the movies, enjoying Boston restaurant week, what have you. Tonight, I am a recording widow.
Boo-hoo, woe is me. Actually, none of this is any bother, because as I have realized this week, since we haven't been spending any time together, boyfriends take up a surprisingly large amount of time and energy! As I am dying and desperate to make some headway on my book, having some time to myself to be alone and think and write has been a blessing. I have been solitary and enjoying it. I have been getting in touch with myself. I have even started meditating.
Besides, I am not interested in being in the kind of relationship where my life revolves around my boyfriend. I was in that relationship once already, for 5 years, and I even almost got married to it. Consequently, in some respects I am fiercely defensive of my independent time, and when I find out my boyfriend has made other plans, I am usually quick to make plans of my own, if they weren't already somehow in the works, because, like a good Virgo, I almost always have a back-up plan.
So, a Friday night, left to my own devices? Sounds to me like a perfect time for girl's night. Woo-hoo, I love girl's night! But for some reason, through some weird alignment of the planets and crossing of the stars, all of my girlfriends seem to be hanging out with their boyfriends/out of town/working/ simply not returning my phone calls. "Okay," I thought, "that's no bother. I'll call up my gay friends." Oops, they too all seem to be hanging out with their boyfriends/out of town/working/or simply not returning my phone calls. (Hope you're having fun in P-town, A-lo. Baaah, restaurant week, I want my friends back!!!)
With all of my friends in the city otherwise occupied, i decided to turn to my family, my beloved family, my always there for me, supportive, wonderful family...
But even my mom and dad had plans.
I knew this was probably a sign that really, I was meant to spend this particular Friday evening on my own, doing my own thing, working on the book and getting to know myself a little bit more intimately that I ever have before. But seriously? After several days and nights left pretty much to my own devices, with a long Friday night stretching way out before me and two long weekend days of solitude on the agenda, I am kind of starting to twitch.
By the time 8 o'clock rolled around and I realized that there really was no chance in hell that I'd be seeing the Mathematician tonight, and that none of my friends were calling me back, I decided to occupy myself my making a lovely, delicious dinner pour moi. I went down to South End Formaggio, bought myself some wine, came back and started to cook an awesome and easy-sounding recipe from a book I publicized this June, called Cucina del Sole, about Southern Italian cooking. The dish is baked eggplant and penne and it sounds fairly simple, and I'd already procured all of the ingredients at the Copley Square Farmer's Market today, so why not? Sure, it might be time consuming, but from the looks of things, I've got all the time in the world.
So here I am, alone on a Friday night. And yes, a night alone, with the apartment all to myself would ordinarily be a blessing, especially since co-habitation with the Mathematician is on the horizon, especially with a book to write. But after three nights this week spent 100% alone, and several hours spent meditating about myself, and days with virtually no one to distract me from myself, well...it's been a little intense.
Not unlike this penne-eggplant project, which has been something of an undertaking. It's still in the works as we speak, and probably won't be ready for at least another hour. And at this point, I am not even the slightest bit hungry for the following reasons:
- I bought myself a massive brownie at the Farmers Market at Copley today, which I proceeded to eat in it's entirety while enjoying a cup of appetite suppressing caffeinated tea at 5 p.m.
- The nice guy at Formaggio tricked me into buying more cheese than I needed, and I have been nibbling on that since 8 (and by tricked I mean he ever-so-politely asked me, "Can I help you find anything else?)
- I have already consumed half of the bottle of wine I was also tricked into purchasing while at Formaggio (and by tricked I mean it happened to be on the shelf and it happened to be for sale)
I am ALONE dear readers, and I am not used to being this way. And you can't really blame me, after all, I have TWIN. I have been sharing time and energy and space with at least one another person since the womb.
I am ALONE, and feeling restless and a little bit like Sylvia Plath in the Bell Jar. I know I always make that joke amongst friends, but tonight it's actually kind of freaking me out.
The timer just went off. The penne-eggplant smells amazing. It smells so freaking good in my kitchen, like basil and Italy and love.
Anybody hungry for some penne?
Oh girl. I can SO relate to your unfortunate restlessness of last night. My hubby gigs pretty much EVERY weekend night, and I've been known drink an entire bottle of wine on my own when I can't get a hold of my friends (or don't wish tag along as a third wheel with those friends who are couples).
So, here's to being alone sometimes! May our solitude make us more strong, sassy, creative, and simply irresistible than we have ever been before!
p.s. - Have you read The Frog King by Adam Davies? Probably you don't have leisurely time to read, what with writing your own book and all. But, when you get some downtime, you might find it very clever. And amusing. And dark. And sad. And good. But, mostly clever. And somewhat relevant to your job as a publicist.
Somehow, I think that you would have fun in any hair color
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