Well, folks, here I sit . . . eating lunch . . . alone. Again.
But I like it that way. So what if nobody ever asks to meet me for lunch? Nobody sees the apple I just dropped on my blouse, nor when I picked up that slice of ham with my fingers and hogged 😆 it down. Nobody sees my head nod down to my chest and my eyes close for just one more quick doze. They think I’m just eating my lunch . . . they don’t know I’m sitting here taking my every thought captive.
Trust me, folks – some thoughts are better left in captivity. The rest I share here, in my office, on my lunch hour, with a world that I only see on the computer screen.
The walls are thin; I can hear people in the other offices.
Goodbye, dear. It was so nice to have lunch with you today. Where should we go next time?
Another laughs with his kids as they head out for a meal together. A couple more chat in the copy room, right across the hall from my closed door.
They all respect that little sign in my window: “Lunch time!” No one knocks on the door.
Ah, Little Lubby, when will you be home?
the REmissionary 
Sometimes solitude is just what the doctor ordered to get your thoughts together. I enjoy. The time that I have to myself to process things.
LikeLike
I do treasure my totally private lunchtimes, but I have to admit, there are days I kinda wish I had someone to share that hour with. I do get a lot of enjoyment in cruising the blogs I follow during that time, though, so it all works out well.
LikeLike