Sit Down. in Whey and Sonic Screwdrivers.

I sat down for dinner.

No, I don’t think you realize how big a deal this is. See, usually I sit in front of the TV. It’s such a habit that I have spent some time thinking about just how long it is has been since I sat down at a dinner table to eat by myself. Eating dinner at a dinner table is among many small “habit changes” I have annotated on my calendar.

Seems less stressful than an arcing hour-by-hour schedule change, no?

I was so antsy. I wanted to get up and pace. In part because I couldn’t remember if Candi and I sat at our table or not. That was back in 2012/13, so forgive my memory.

Thankfully, communicate lines are open.

She said we did. That makes sense. Going from our cramped rooms to sit at a TABLE? (As, Candi and I moved in February 2012.) I stayed in “our” apartment far longer than I should, so I guess the memories of me sitting alone, in Daisy*, eating outweigh some other memories.

*Daisy was my recliner.

Such nice memories with Candi. When you’re in a good mood, remembering nice things can make you smile. When you’re a fragile mess like me, it makes you cry. Yes. I cried over wondering about how often Candi and I sat down at a table for dinner in our flat.

PS: Bonus dichotomy: When you remember something that annoyed you, but now you miss it. If I slept over at her parents’, she’d sleep in her bed, and I’d sleep on her futon. Annoyed me at the time. Now it’s a “Shucks, can’t have that again”.

PPS: I don’t think I’ve sat down to eat, at a table, by myself, at home, with frequency, since I was 17.

Last updated May 08, 2021