table for (just) one


Reservations at a nice restaurant are easier to swallow than reservations about a big decision you just made – the latter feels more like a knot in the throat or a lump in the chest.

My life has tended toward having reservations about most decisions I’ve made. Without the benefit of bouncing choices off someone else’s head, I’ve tossed them around my own head and picked the lesser of two evils. Most times, naturally, it had to do with money – the root of all evil. I wish I had a big, fat account filled with evil because I’m sure I could whip it into something good.

I’ve gotten better about not second guessing myself so much but it’s still an uncomfortable feeling.

Daily Prompt: reservation


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