Home Alone
Jake is not big on spending the night away from home. This afternoon when he talked to my mom about spending the night with her tonight he made a point to say he only wanted to stay for one night - not the whole weekend. He hung up the phone when he was through and said to me, "I'm still getting over the three days away from home from before." The girls love to go to Nany's, but Jake, he likes hanging out with me. We have great fun when we're together. He is always with me. During the day we have school, and since he doesn't care for spending the night away from home, he is here then too.
But tonight he went merrily off to spend the night with Nany. And I'm home all alone.
It goes without saying that though Doug was supposed to be off work tonight, he wasn't. 10:35 and he's still there. And there you have the number one reason that romance is never first on the list of options when chances like this come about. It just ain't going to happen. The work gods will see to it. So I left the restaurant knowing for sure that when he said he MAY be home soon, that meant I had the whole night to myself. Sure enough, here I sit alone. I don't really care for being alone. Actually, I love everything about being by myself - the intense quiet, the peaceful thoughts, the house staying as clean as I move from room to room, the intense quiet - yep, I love it all, except for the alone part.
For 13 years I have not been alone more than a handfull of times, so I have a teensie bit of anxiety over just what to do with myself when the opportunity arises.
I came home this evening before the sun set and since the house was bright enough with the light filtering through the curtains, I didn't need to turn lights on. I finished the job of straightening Jake's closet which we had started earlier today and a few other things that were desperate for doing tonight. A few things I left for tomorrow.
I'll be alone in the morning too and I'll be needing something to do then.
It is so not easy to adjust to being by yourself when you haven't even gone to the bathroom alone in such a long time. Okay, I haven't gone to the bathroom alone tonight either...Winkin' (the adorable, attention-starved, one-eyed kitty) is the one that always comes with me, but STILL. My footsteps through the house sound like wrecking balls, so I find a place to sit quietly. I tried for a little while to talk to the animals, but for some reason when I speak to them I'm self-conscious. Like singing. I can sing in the shower all day long, but let me even THINK somebody might be listening and my voice goes all weak and whimpery.
So I've sat, careful not to disturb the silence and break the peace.
I didn't read. I didn't get anything spotless. I didn't get next week's school lessons planned out. I didn't even get in the shower (I can NOT do that when I'm home alone and it's dark out - I'm a night-wuss). When I was in high school and I lived with my dad, he worked out of town all the time and I pretty much lived alone, except on the weekends (which I was never home for). I always ALWAYS made sure to have my shower before dark fell. I have no idea why, but being in the shower after dark in a house that's otherwise empty...it just screams Psycho. And I just can't do it. But that's just another bit of weirdness about me that I can't really explain. Like why, WHY would I waste a night alone. All by myself. No noise. No interruptions. Nothing but dogs outside barking at everything that moves (irritating hounds) and I am just sitting here passing the time until my husband comes home.
But tonight he went merrily off to spend the night with Nany. And I'm home all alone.
It goes without saying that though Doug was supposed to be off work tonight, he wasn't. 10:35 and he's still there. And there you have the number one reason that romance is never first on the list of options when chances like this come about. It just ain't going to happen. The work gods will see to it. So I left the restaurant knowing for sure that when he said he MAY be home soon, that meant I had the whole night to myself. Sure enough, here I sit alone. I don't really care for being alone. Actually, I love everything about being by myself - the intense quiet, the peaceful thoughts, the house staying as clean as I move from room to room, the intense quiet - yep, I love it all, except for the alone part.
For 13 years I have not been alone more than a handfull of times, so I have a teensie bit of anxiety over just what to do with myself when the opportunity arises.
I came home this evening before the sun set and since the house was bright enough with the light filtering through the curtains, I didn't need to turn lights on. I finished the job of straightening Jake's closet which we had started earlier today and a few other things that were desperate for doing tonight. A few things I left for tomorrow.
I'll be alone in the morning too and I'll be needing something to do then.
It is so not easy to adjust to being by yourself when you haven't even gone to the bathroom alone in such a long time. Okay, I haven't gone to the bathroom alone tonight either...Winkin' (the adorable, attention-starved, one-eyed kitty) is the one that always comes with me, but STILL. My footsteps through the house sound like wrecking balls, so I find a place to sit quietly. I tried for a little while to talk to the animals, but for some reason when I speak to them I'm self-conscious. Like singing. I can sing in the shower all day long, but let me even THINK somebody might be listening and my voice goes all weak and whimpery.
So I've sat, careful not to disturb the silence and break the peace.
I didn't read. I didn't get anything spotless. I didn't get next week's school lessons planned out. I didn't even get in the shower (I can NOT do that when I'm home alone and it's dark out - I'm a night-wuss). When I was in high school and I lived with my dad, he worked out of town all the time and I pretty much lived alone, except on the weekends (which I was never home for). I always ALWAYS made sure to have my shower before dark fell. I have no idea why, but being in the shower after dark in a house that's otherwise empty...it just screams Psycho. And I just can't do it. But that's just another bit of weirdness about me that I can't really explain. Like why, WHY would I waste a night alone. All by myself. No noise. No interruptions. Nothing but dogs outside barking at everything that moves (irritating hounds) and I am just sitting here passing the time until my husband comes home.
1 Comments:
When I do get time alone, which isn't often, I enjoy about the first hour or two, and then I want everyone back. It's just too quiet and I'm too used to my time being their time, too.
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