I couldn’t find anyone I know to go with me to see “Eleanor,” a play about FDR’s wife, that was playing to sold-out audiences in Central Square in Cambridge and about to end its run. 

So, probably for the first time ever, I bought a ticket for just me.

It was a little strange listening to the pre-curtain chatter of everyone else, but once the play started, it was fine, and I am glad I saw it.

But–I felt a bit sad as I walked home in a light drizzle because the only person I could discuss the play with

Was me.