While I write this, I’m having a delicious lunch in a nice restaurant on a Saturday afternoon in rainy New York City. I make sure—very sure—that I take myself out for a nice meal on a very regular basis. I don’t want to cook every night, after all. I need a break, too. And I give myself one.
I also have my weekly evening of me time, which includes an extra nice dinner, maybe that lingering lavender bath, no phone, and some candles and classical music.
A friend asked me the other day if I would ever consider getting married again. Of course I would. I love the idea of marriage. He asked how I would handle having my me nights if I was married. My answer was, “I would share them.”
The point is not to focus on not being with someone. The point is to pamper me and treat me really well. You see, me and my Valentine, we are both the same.
