Pass the Skim Milk

Yesterday I was feeling pretty tough and so I sat down with my coffee to watch a local morning show, when who should appear on the screen but a woman who -- let's us the word "dated" although that's not what I mean at all -- my college boyfriend while I was also actually dating him. I disliked her in a BIG way.

She was singing and she looked as tiny and cute and perky and trendy and talented as ever. I sat on the couch in my ragged jeans, sniveling thanks to this cold, drinking coldish coffee with no creamer because I need to drop a couple of pounds (and may I say life is too short not to drink creamer), thinking of letting Preschooler D play with my new fancy phone just to keep him busy.

Here's the thing: I didn't really care. Good for her for still being tiny and cute and perky and trendy. Good for her for sounding good while she sang.

I may or may not be any of those things, but I am peaceful. I am happy. It turned out in the end that College Boyfriend and I weren't a very good match . . . at all. I can be done being jealous and angry.

Good for me.