Saturday, December 17, 2011

Home alone

The longest I have ever lived alone is four months.  Before that I lived with a husband, after that I lived with a roommate.  Now, I'm living alone again in my very first apartment.  It's been three and a half months.  All by myself.

The last time, I was too busy re-learning how to take care of myself to focus on the alone part.  This time, I feel like little Macaulay Culkin running around in my underwear, screaming and waving my arms in the air.  I can do whatever I want!  I can eat lunch for breakfast and dessert for lunch and breakfast for dinner!  I have no bedtime, no curfew, and no rules.  I realize I haven't had those things for roughly 15 years (ouch), but for some reason, now, it feels different.

It's weird not having to be considerate of anyone else.  I mean, I don't have to apologize to anyone when I leave a few dishes in the sink or my mail on the counter.  It's okay if I wait until the last possible minute to empty and reload the dishwasher.  I can wait to take out the trash until the bag is busting at the seams.  And this one time, I finished the toilet paper roll and I thought to myself, "I need to put on a new roll.  Wait, I'm the only one who uses this bathroom.  I can put on a new roll next time.  Whoa, I can put on a new roll next time!  I'm gonna walk out of my bathroom without putting on a new roll.  I feel so free!

They say it's the little things in life.  I think they are right.

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