Food shopping for one is almost as depressing as eating alone.  The despair descends at the grocery store.  Looking for corn, I find peeled ears only in packages of five.  That means some will probably spoil before I have the chance to consume it.  But at least I won’t have to hunt for the corn soon again.  Food and money wasted and my spirits sink while still in the produce aisle.  Not an auspicious start.

But I am determined to buy the meal I will eat for my dinner.  I like chicken, but can’t consume a whole barbecued roaster or six pieces of fried or baked poultry.  However, having leftovers won’t be such a bad situation.  One less meal to plan.

I make a yummy concoction at the salad bar and top it with my favorite fried onions.  Now my supper is taking shape.

After arriving home to my empty condo, I microwave the corn and fried chicken and take the lid off of the salad.  I wish I had someone to share my meal with, but have no prospects to whom I can proffer an invitation.  So, I reach for a pretty plate from the shelf and begin to get my victuals ready.

I don’t eat at the dining room table because I use it for paying bills and other paperwork.  Anyway, being the sole occupant at a table built for four would only intensify my loneliness.

So I take my plate and plop on the sofa, using a too-small coffee table as my dining surface.  I get a little teary considering my solo circumstances.  I miss my daughter and fantasize that she is here with me like she was a few weeks ago.

We shared a feast of salmon, sweet potatoes and zucchini, and I slept soundly that night having basked in her presence.  What would my life look like if I moved to Philadelphia to be near her?  I feel stuck where I am, but fear making a big change.

For now, I will eat my meal alone, sad and sorry I didn’t plan my life better.



I grew up eating chocolate for breakfast-cookies, cake, even candy.  No eggs or bacon graced the Westheimer table in the early hours.  I don’t think we even ever had cereal.  Nope, sweets it was and let to a mouthful of cavities.  The goodies never filled me up and I became accustomed to a growling stomach by 10 AM.  Lunchtime found me starving.

My mother slept later in the day, and my sister and I dined in the kitchen with my father.   We laughed and joked while consuming pound cake and chocolate-chip cookies, and never thought our daily repast was unusual.

Only when I slept at friends’ houses did I experience healthier, heartier fares for the start of the day-and I never liked the more traditional fare.  That was one of several  reasons I preferred sleeping at home.  They also used mayonnaise instead of Miracle Whip in the lunchtime tuna salad.  I must have had food issues.

These days, as I live alone, I chose what to eat in the morning.  Lately, I have selected Chocolatey Delight Special K, for obvious reasons.  But I barely taste the chocolate, and the meal seems more like dessert.  The worst part is that I am hungry right away and down a protein bar or other semi-healthy snack to quiet my growling stomach.

Today, I decided to make a change.  After seventeen slow minutes on the treadmill, and an unsatisfying breakfast of the sweet cereal, I boiled some eggs.  Enough sweets to start the day for me.  Time for a change in the right direction.

I am looking forward to downing the healthy food as soon as it cools.  Yummy!