Two can be as bad as one
It's the loneliest number since the number one
No is the saddest experience you'll ever know
Yes, it's the saddest experience you'll ever know
`Cause one is the loneliest number that you'll ever do
One is the loneliest number, worse than two
One (is the Loneliest Number) - Harry Nilsson
There was one lonely peach in my fruit drawer. And a pint of blueberries.
As I was sitting by myself in my living room Sunday morning, I couldn't stop thinking about that one lone peach. And it made me sad.
Now, I don't have anything against solitude. It's something that I often relish. Social skills are not always my finest suit. Inane conversation is not something I am great at (although, at times, I can jump pretty deep into the pool of pointless).
I feel like it is one thing to be alone and solitary because you choose to be; however, it is another thing altogether to be alone because you were passed over.
Like the kid that doesn't get picked by anyone to be on a kickball team.
The student that gets put into a threesome during science lab because no one else will partner up with them.
The conference attendee hiding in a corner desperately trying to avoid eye contact. Pretending that the piece of paper in front of them is so vital that there can be no other cause for their solitary state.
The last M & M sitting in the bowl.
And that sad peach. A remnant from some random project in the days prior.
One might say, that in that moment that peach wasn't really just a peach. That perhaps rescuing it meant something a little more.
One might also say that I was over-thinking things and was really just looking for a way to make this dish with out going to the store.
One could say...
As you can see, I did poach one solitary peach - cut up into eight pieces. I reduced the poaching liquid by half and added a healthy glug of brandy to the rest of the liquids - just because. I ate my peach straight up - for dinner. There was not a grain or vegetable or piece of protein at the table. Just a peach. I am a grown up. I can do these things, you know? (Well, I can do these things when I am the only person in the house...)
It seemed like a shame to waste the leftover poaching liquid, so I simmered that pint of blueberries that was sitting next to the lonely peach in the remaining liquid and transferred them to glass jars. They are destined to become topping for crepes one night this week. And I was left feeling very virtuous about my resourcefulness.