Last week I was feeling sorry for myself. Like many women, I tend to take care of the needs of others and forget about myself. It was wearing me down. Time to take care of me, I decided.

I made the announcement to my family: “I will not be on duty this Saturday; I am taking a ‘me’ day.”

“That’s great,” said my daughter, “You should take some time for yourself.” The others just sort of stared at me like, “What’s a ‘me’ day?”

“A me day is a day when I take care of me,” I explained. “I am going to the clinic. My neck feels stiff and I want to see a doctor. Then I am going to get my hair done. When I’m finished, I am getting a manicure and pedicure. And after that, I’m going shopping — and not for groceries.”

I saw an outfit that I want. I’ve been thinking that I should go back and buy it before it is too late. I also like to bargain shop at the thrift store. It’s a fun thing, not a necessary thing, but I’ve not done it in ages.

I could hear them thinking, “What about us? Who will clean the house? Who will feed us?”

They will not starve to death. I am not the only person in the house that knows how to cook and there are plenty of restaurants if they are too lazy to fix a sandwich.

I felt a little guilty as I usually clean house on Saturday since I don’t have much time through the week. But dirt can wait. It will still be there next week. Or, someone else can do my share of the chores. It will not hurt anyone to do a little extra.

So, Saturday morning, I was off to the clinic early. I got a prescription for my aches and pains and told the doctor that I was taking a ‘me’ day. “That’s good,” she said, “Everyone needs to take a day for themselves once in a while.” Now it was official. The doctor approved. It was practically a prescription.

At the hair salon, I didn’t just get a haircut and hurry home, which is what I usually do. I had a shampoo, cut and blow dry. It was wonderful.

From there it was the nail shop. I didn’t go to the usual place where it is always crowded. Instead, I found a new shop that didn’t look busy. They pampered my feet with a spa treatment and pedicure and I got a French manicure for my nails, pink and white, very chic.

Before the shopping, I decided to go by the house for a sandwich and check things out. Everyone was still in bed asleep. “Why was I concerned?” I thought. “They did not even know I was gone.”

I spent the rest of the afternoon shopping for clothes. I didn’t make it to the thrift store to hunt bargains, but that’s okay. I didn’t want to mess up my nails digging through old clothes anyhow. Besides, it gives me something to do the next time I have a ‘me’ day.

When I got home, Honey was glued to the TV watching a ballgame.

“I noticed that baked spaghetti is on sale at Fazoli’s.” I hinted.

“Why didn’t you call and get orders?” grumbled Honey, out of sorts because he had been ignored all day. But then he remembered that he was hungry and decided he might go get carry-out.

They all made it without me for an entire day. No one starved to death and no one died from neglect.

I feel like a new woman. I really should do this more often.

And the baked spaghetti was fabulous.

Copyright 2013 Sheila Moss