Alone Time

In a household that consists of a spouse, two kids, and my 81-year old dad, I rarely am by myself.   How much I value "alone time" was made apparent to me a few days ago when I found myself eating lunch in my mini-van in the parking lot of Sendik's.

I didn't set out to do that, but it was one of those days where I felt like I was being pulled in a hundred different directions.  After a harried morning, I got my dad's lunch ready and then prepared to go to the grocery store, thinking I would just pick up something at the deli for my lunch, bring it back home with me, and finish up just in time to go pick up The Youngest from school. Quick and efficient.

But as I parked at the store, a local cafe right next door caught my eye, and in a moment of self-indulgence, I thought,  "Why not?" 

The restaurant was packed that day, and I didn't relish the thought of eating in such a crowded and noisy atmosphere.  So, armed with soup in one hand and a slice of pie in the other, I retreated to my car for a lunch in blissful solitude and silence.

I have to admit to a few moments of self-consciousness as I began eating, especially when one gentleman gave me a curious stare.  I thought: 

That guy probably thinks I'm weird.  What if someone I know sees me eating in my car?  I might as well just paint a big red "L" on my forehead.

That was quickly replaced by this thought: 

I am a 40-something woman, and I can gosh darn eat alone in my car if I want to.  So, just walk on by, dude.  

It was not the most efficient way to start my afternoon, but it sure felt nice.