Paper or Plastic

As the title of my muse indicates, I am single. Since I've already given numerous shout-outs to the cozy half of my life, I figure it's time to try and give equal time to the single portion. I realize that there's nothing fascinating about a sneak-peek into the single life. No back stage passes required; this isn't like a Catholic getting to view the Mormon Temple. But I do think that as I have glided into the minority status among my friends, the single life has provided increasingly unique perspectives.

I thought about giving a pros and cons list of being single but seeing as how there are about 672,000,000 of those being released at the start of the new year, I decided against it. No sense in getting lost in the shuffle. For the most part, being single isn't a bad thing. I'm a rigid woman of routine and so single life suits me just fine. Most of the time.

Those occasions when I find single life more or less inconvenient probably aren't the ones you'd think. Sure, I'd love a date on National holidays. I'm jaded, but I'm not so much of a cynic that I'd try to look anyone in the eye and deny that watching fireworks on the Fourth of July is much better when you're "with" someone. But I find those waves come and go pretty quickly. It would be nice. It would be great. But it doesn't spoil my mood for more than, oh, a few minutes.

For me, it's the small things; the things I have grown increasingly annoyed at having to do alone. The biggest one is probably the groceries. That's right. The groceries. I realized this brand of single hood a few years ago when I was living in Alexandria, VA. I lived in a small, postage stamp apartment (it was one of my coziest abodes to date, thank you very much) and I was returning, in the rain, from a trip to my local Safeway. In the rain. Did I mention it was IN THE RAIN? The parking situation, while not dire, wasn't Park Avenue Door Man-style. So, I found myself lugging the groceries, in the rain, up a steep hill and then up the stairs. After several trips I found myself waterlogged, tired, and annoyed. My grocery bags were tearing, my bread was soggy, and a few pieces of the produce had found their way back down the aforementioned hill. Using an umbrella would have been done in vain. I realized at that moment how wonderful it would be to NOT be single and have someone just help me with the damn groceries. And I don't mean help me make the list, go to the store, pay for them, or load them into the car. I don't even mean that I need someone to help me UNload them once they made it to their final destination in the kitchen. (The rigid woman of routine has a specific place for everything, you see.) I just wanted, longed for really, someone to be there at the door when I got back from the store, in the rain, to take the keys and bring them inside.

Since that epiphany in Alexandria, VA, I have found myself noticing several other instances where a partner; be it a boyfriend, a spouse, or even a Stedman would be kinda nice. This isn't an all the time thing. I don't wake up in the morning pining, wondering if today is the day I'll meet someone. I find that it's mainly on the days when my cupboards are bear and I have to make my monthly trip...to the grocery.