I should begin this by making a confession: I really enjoy being alone. No, really. I love it.
Don’t be too creeped out. If you met me in person, you would probably think I’m less “Unibomber” and more “social butterfly.” I’m boisterous and energetic. I’ve been told I’m pretty warm and accessible. I like that. I like that people find me (by and large) likeable. I enjoy people’s company very much. However, as much as I enjoy being social, after a while, I’ve always found it kind of draining.
My mom used to tell me stories about when I was a kid. After a playmate would be over for a few hours, I would turn to my mom and say, somewhat dramatically, “I think this visit needs to be over.” My mom attributed this wacko behavior (along with a cavalcade of other bizarre social tendencies) to my only child status.
J, bless his heart, has grown accustomed to my moods. For a while, I would go into these long-winded speeches about how I need to spend time alone to ruminate, cultivate my skills and grow as a person. Now, I just look at him and say, “I love you. Go away.” It works.
On Sunday morning, he left for an overnight fishing trip. (I’ll try to nudge him to write a guest column, as it turned out to be a pretty exciting endeavor.) After doing all the necessaries: urging him to wear sunscreen, making sure he had cash in his pocket, pointing out the extra baseball hats and shooing him out the door, I settled in for some nice, uninterrupted private time.
I started by cleaning the toilets. (I didn’t say I would be luxuriating the whole time.)
Then, I compiled a list in my head of all the things I should do while he wasn’t around and got crackin’!
So, here’s a sampling of activities from my big, girly weekend:
Eat a bunch of stuff J hates.
For dinner I had ginger tea, fresh avocado covered in lemon and salt, 5 cups of low-fat cheese popcorn and two ice cream sandwiches.
Watch girly crap on t.v.
Apparently Blockbuster had a run on weepers. My local store was bereft of perennial favorites like Steel Magnolias, Beaches and the Sarah Jessica Parker vehicle Girls Just Want to Have Fun. So, I flipped the channels and stumbled across Blue Crush (that surfing movie) playing on StarZ. I watched the whole thing. However, this kind of backfired because it was not weepy, girly or even as stupid as I hoped it would be.
Call all my girlfriends, talk a long time and drink red wine.
Totally backfired. No one was home. Drank seltzer with lemon instead.
Buy ”O”, The Oprah Magazine, and read it cover to cover.
Well, I bought it, read some of it and then got bored.
Watch only my favorite parts of movies on DVD.
I watched Colin Firth’s “I Like You – Just As You Are” speech (Bridget Jones’s Diary) more times than I’d care to mention.
Sing show tunes – loudly – all day.
I finally got to christen that Chicago soundtrack I bought. I made sure to close the curtains so neighbors could be spared my “dance breaks.”
After reading another few chapters of Daughters of Britannia, I passed out (lights still on) in a nice, peaceful sleep.
This afternoon at work, I got a call from J. He excitedly told me about his adventures. When I get home, we’re whipping up one of the tuna steaks he caught, pouring two glasses of wine and playing a bit of catch up.
Yep. I missed my fella.
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