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I already have her phone number because we work together, which means we text each other throughout the day with problems and questions when we don’t have time to just run to the other room.
“Okay,” I tell her. “I’ll, um, I’ll think about it.”
I’m not really sure why Christina is inviting me to this place or why she thinks it’ll be good for me. The truth is that I really am more of a homebody. Going to clubs – whether they’re naughty or nice – isn’t really my thing. It never has been.
But she’s right about one thing: it would be nice to unwind a little. It would be nice to relax and not have to worry about everything in my life.
My boss has been breathing down my neck and as much as I love her, I’m getting tired of everything always being my fault. That’s the thing about working in childcare; the parents are never wrong. Ever. No matter what a kid does, it’s automatically my fault, and I’m exhausted.
“Good,” Christina says. She grabs Bennett’s mitten-covered hand and smiles. Then she turns to head ou
t of the room.
“Hey, Christina?”
“Yeah?” She turns around.
“Thanks for inviting me. I’m not sure if I’ll go. I’ll let you know, but thanks. It’s nice to be included.”
“Anytime, love,” she wiggles her fingers and heads out the door.
For a minute, I just stand there, and then I get moving. I flip off the lights and leave the room. Then I lock up my classroom, clock out at the front desk, and head to my car. As expected, it’s freezing cold and covered in a thin layer of ice. I start the car and grab my scraper, then get to work.
It’s going to be a long weekend.
*
Ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to be a mom. I loved playing baby dolls when I was a kid, and house, and all those other fun games where you get to take care of kids. After a shitty high school relationship and a couple of terrible college relationships, though, I realized I wasn’t cut out for marriage.
So I became a childcare provider.
And I’ve never been happier.
Sure, the parents basically crap on me emotionally every day. And yeah, my boss calls me in on Saturdays almost every week. And okay, the kids aren’t always the most well-behaved, but I get to be around children, and some of them are really, really sweet.
Some of them are really wonderful.
And sometimes, my job can be incredible.
By the time I get home, though, it’s nearly nine, and I’m exhausted. I step into my house and flip the lights on. I hear a meow and look down to see Owl, my black kitten, rubbing against my legs.
“Hey Owl,” I say, picking up the little guy. I nuzzle him, then carry him into the kitchen to make sure he still has food and water. “Looks like you’re good in the food department, little buddy.” I keep holding Owl as I drop my groceries on the table. Then I sit down in one of the chairs and just pet my kitten.
Instantly, I feel myself relax.
I adopted Owl from a shelter a couple of weeks ago. It was weirdly expensive to adopt a cat, but I knew the minute I saw him that it was meant to be. I’ve always wanted a kitten and I think there’s a part of me that was hoping I’d get one with the man of my dreams.
You know, and 2.5 kids along with the dream guy.
That didn’t happen, and I finally realized I can’t put my life on hold anymore. I’m 26. I’m old enough to have been married and divorced already, and honestly, many of my friends are. Still, I spend four years in undergrad and two years in graduate school. I spent a lot of time studying, a lot of time dating guys who just didn’t care.
Then I found my job and I haven’t dated since. It’s been nearly two years and I haven’t dated anyone in that time. It’s a little crazy, even to me, but I’ve been focusing on doing the things I want to do. I’ve been trying to pursue my own interests instead of holding onto this idea that there’s a guy out there waiting for me.
This isn’t some fairytale romance where one day, I wake up and meet some guy.
That’s not how these things work.
That’s not the reality of life as a twenty-something human.
