Thursday, August 27, 2020

The Pizza Slicer

This is how First Rate Single Life works these days.

I learn Lady Gaga choreography because there is no one to get annoyed at the tiny house bobbing around.

I listen to ridiculous music in the car because no one has to hear me screech those high notes.

I learn how to cook because no one has to taste how bad it is, but then one day I will be making a pizza. And I realize that I don't know how to take it out of the oven.  No big deal, I just ask Facebook.  And in that conversation someone mentions cutting it.  Oh God, how do I cut it? I don't have a pizza cutter.

So, I dive into the drawer to find a large knife only to discover that I have a pizza cutter!  I'm so genuinely excited, I post a pic that is just filled with real joy.

I cut my pizza, sit down and enjoy it.

While reviewing the Facebook post I think, "Seriously though, how did I get a pizza cutter?"  And then it hits me.  He put it there.  He bought it. He was ready for things, I'm not.  He made life easier. Now life's just a little harder and I don't even know how to get a freakin pizza out of an oven.

Then I cry.

And I'll probably cry a couple more times.  Then I will sleep and wake up in the morning, dance a little bit and cook a little bit and heal a little bit.  And everyday will be a little easier.




 

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