I officially survived my first one-man Thanksgiving.
I decided a couple weeks ago that I would try it for two reasons. First, seeing as how I'd never attempted to cook an actual Thanksgiving meal for anyone before, it would be an interesting exercise to see if I could indeed pull it off.
And Second, after being invited to a couple of friends houses over the last two years, I wanted to get through the day with just me and see how it would feel.
Considering I haven't fallen ill to the effects of salmonella or dysentery yet, I believe that the cooking went quite well and I now have leftovers for the better part of the next month.
I got started on the prep work about midday and as I'm sure the custom of most cooks, things took less time than it seemed when I got started. Still, for a first crack, I think I did better than okay.
The cleanup actually took less time than I thought too, which was a pleasant surprise, compared to the odysseys of post-Turkey feast cleanups I underwent with my in-laws. Overall, my apartment looks cleaner than it has in some time, which is nice because it means less work and more time to relax with a cup of hot tea and a movie before the rather unwelcome return to work tomorrow morning.
Throughout the day, while I had I my music on to keep me company, I was watching other people I knew celebrating their Thanksgivings either with family or friends, and a few like me were on their own.
I won't lie and say that if I could've teleported them all here and been a host, I wouldn't have minded it at all.
Over the years, the longer I've been alone, I'd tell people that you get used to it after a while. That you reach a point where you just accept that it's how things are and how they're going to be.
In some ways, you do get used to it...and others you don't. No matter how many years go by.
So now that I've done it, I guess I can look forward to the next year...
...and the hope that I never spend a Thanksgiving by myself again.
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