I am single.
And I like to think I am fabulous.
But what if I’m not?
I’m not digging for compliments here. I’m just trying to explore something so bear with me…
My wrinkles are ever so subtly beginning to take over my forehead, my eyebrows are even falling, my gray hair is multiplying at an extraordinary pace, it’s a struggle to stay out later than 11:00 and I am about to turn 30.
And yes, I’m 100% single.
But I feel fabulous.
In fact, I can’t remember the last time I’ve been so content and completely happy. I credit a combination of factors:
- The no man thing. Not having a boyfriend, or even anyone to date, frees up a lot of time and gives me all kinds of fabulous mental space to float around in. Plus I am clearly awful at choosing them. Instead, as of late, I’ve decided to let one choose me. I am throwing in my frequent man shopper card and moving into the slow lane for a while. Done and done.
- Not smoking. It’s been 37 days, cold turkey. Not smoking, not even cheating, has made me feel like I can conquer anything. And I have this incredible amount of energy. It’s absolutely amazing.
- Mr. Benjamin. He’s growing by leaps and bounds every day and he’s talking and talking and talking. Suddenly I have a roommate, someone to converse with, someone to play games with and even just hang out with. I’ve never had to potty train a roommate before, but – meh – no one is perfect. By the way, my friend Morgan took THE funniest picture of Lucca (Benjamin’s soul twin) potty training and turned it into a poster. Check it out.
- A passion for my career. I love what I do. Every day. 100% of the time.
But does that mean I’m fabulous?
Maybe I’m just smoking some kind of single moms are awesome pipe and everyone is really laughing at me. But here’s the deal. You are only fabulous if you think you’re fabulous. Logic wins every time. And beauty comes from within.
But beauty sleep helps a lot too.
Last night I looked in the mirror and saw a tired, very non-fabulous me staring back. The night before I’d had one too many shots of tequila with my single girlfriends and the results were not pretty.
Hangover face is the worst.
Suddenly I had visions of my photo shoot this Friday — did I even tell you I have a photo shoot?. A local magazine thinks I’m one of the Top 10 Singles in the City and they have to take pictures to prove it.
So back to my photo shoot vision.
It went something like this.
The shoot is in just about 24 hours.
I’m freaking out (slightly) because I don’t know how to stare into a camera and look sexy. My solution, at this point, is to just sit there and pick my nose like Benjamin would.
Now that would be fabulous.
Ms. Single Mama, the three-year-old wanna be.
Sounds about right.
So guess who is about to be married and fabulous???