So the other day, as I bundled up in my Victoria’s Secret thermal PJs, HUE slipper socks, and additional sweatshirt from a guy I dated for 4 twitches of the eye, and never returned, as he forgot to ask for it back, and it was so delicious–so broken in, comes to my knees, so yummy!, eating an illegal amount of cinnamon apple oatmeal with a liberal dose of granola and toasted coconut as topping–that I found myself looking into the mirror, on the way to my room, juggling my cell, and the hefty bowl.
I saw a single, with a pale face, no makeup, a zit that was an uninvited, unwelcome guest and overstayed it’s welcome, on my right cheekbone, brown hair, in a casual bun on top of my head, and lips red and chapped, but in a semi-smile.
I looked at peace.
“Donnie Darko”, my favorite movie of all time, was waiting for me in my DVD player to be watched for the umpteenth time, when I realized: I THINK I LIKE SINGLE LIFE.
I SAID IT! I THINK I LIKE SINGLE LIFE!!!!!!!!!
OMG!!!!!!!!! IS THAT NORMAL??? IF I WAS MARRIED, I COULDN’T LOOK LIKE THIS. I would be wearing some tiny negligee and turning blue from the cold, wearing makeup and a pout, in a Victoria Secret Supermodel-like position and starving, lest I gain a few ounces, and have my husband run into the arms of Adriana Lima.
I AM COMFORTABLE. I AM PEACEFUL. I AM HAPPY. I AM SINGLE.
I AM TERRIFIED. IS IT ONLY ME? ANY OF YOU OUT THERE KNOW THE FEELING?
Gigi, sucking in her cheekbones, and applying nude lip gloss.