>Ah, youth, where hast thou gone?

>I’m not a “Cat Lady.” I don’t have a shopping cart full of cat food, ice cream, and frozen pizza — for one.
But that’s only because I’m allergic to cats and my husband does the grocery shopping.
So I had to laugh out loud when I read Melanie’s post describing her exciting Friday evening shopping trip.
I don’t go out in public in sweats, but that’s only because mine are too ratty to wear outside the bedroom. My track suits count, though, in the uber-casual category, and I do go out in public wearing those.
Sometimes splurging on myself doesn’t mean a single-serving pizza, but an omelet with all the fixings. Cooking it myself is a fun solitary activity, with the exception of the clean-up. But going out to the diner alone for an omelet doesn’t really cut it; I’d rather curl up with a good book in one hand and a coffee mug in the other.
This weekend I’ll be a little too busy for curling up in a corner by myself, and I have to dress professionally on Saturday. But since I’ll be visiting La Petite on Friday night and Saturday, I might end up treating both of us to a simple but fun pizza or simples restaurant meal. I’ll have to promise not to wear sweats, though. She might refuse to be seen with me if I do.

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2 thoughts on “>Ah, youth, where hast thou gone?

  1. >”Embrace your inner cat lady.” Oh yes. Hey! We just had French bread pizzas, which is mucho fun and yummy. Worth a shot. Even in sweats.

  2. >My inner cat lady wears sweats under her nightgown and a flannel shirt at the same time. My mom and I call it the Yooper look.

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