Here is a good article from The Globe Magazine. "Saturday Night Blues" is about a 50-something year old divorcee, who is adjusting to being "suddenly single." Here's an excert:
But when I found myself suddenly single in my 50s, Saturday night was a black hole that seemed to epitomize everything that was hard about my new life. It highlighted all that was missing on that special night of the weekend when I was now a floater at dinner parties. Activities that felt great during the day -- like going to the gym -- felt sad on a Saturday night. (Why is the sight of an empty locker room so depressing on date night?) I knew full well what my couple friends were up to most of their Saturday nights, and it wasn’t all that electrifying: They were home watching sports on TV, Skype-ing their kids, figuring out their latest iPhone apps. Still, that was little consolation, and I was certain they were having more fun than I was, because they were two, not one.
I’d sink by sundown on Saturday if I found myself with no plans. I’d overcompensate for several Saturday nights to come so that would never happen again -- frantically filling up my calendar with dinners and dates, even overbooking sometimes, so I wouldn’t have to spend a Saturday night alone. I’d go out with men who were all wrong for me, like the one who told me over coffee that he was born again or the one who boasted first thing over appetizers that he’d been married three times. It was Saturday night -- the black hole -- and I had to fill it. Continue reading »
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