I never do anything just for me. While other girls go out for drinks and manicures and hot waxes and whatever else they do, I'm cooking dinner for my husband. If I'm serving pie, I'll take the deformed, messy piece that gets cut first so everyone else can have a picture-perfect slice. I'm used to putting everyone else's needs above my own, which would be a great trait if I ever wanted to be a mother.
Last night, I got some great news about work. My husband was so non-plussed about the whole thing, which really disappointed me. I had hoped he would be as happy for me as I was, but he gave me a half-hearted, "Oh. That's great." After he left for work, I called my parents to gripe about the situation. My Mom suggested, "Why don't you go to [local restaurant] and have a glass of wine and dessert?"
So, I got dressed up and walked to the restaurant. By the time I got there, I was starting to get hungry. To start, I had a Caesar salad (which was pretty hard to eat because of my missing molar), warm bread with herbed garlic butter, and a glass of Robert Mondavi riesling. The main course was applewood-smoked salmon with cherry cheesecake mashed sweet potatoes (oh my god, were those good!). Finally, they brought out the dessert tray and I picked out a slice of French silk pie. At the end of my meal, the waitress asked if I lived around here. I thought that was sort of an odd question, but I figured she asked because I was wearing nice clothes and was very polite (there are a lot of rough characters around these parts). After I paid, I walked back home and capped off the evening by reading for a while and then trying on outfits for my upcoming business trip.
The point of this? It felt so good to actually do something purely selfish, purely for me. I needed someone to congratulate me on my good news, and that someone ended up being me.