It’s been about a week since JP left to spend the summer in Liberia, and I don’t like it one bit. The truth is, I have never lived alone.
Ok, so I have had roommates out-of-town before. This isn’t JP’s first trip away for more than a month either. But I’ve never not had a roommate, because…well…I don’t like living alone.
First, it’s scary. I love my dogs dearly, but they bark at the door from a safe position underneath the coffee table. Not that a roommate would do much in a crisis, but irrational as it is, I still feel better when there’s someone else in the house. Thank goodness for all of my neighbors.
Second, it’s more fun with someone else around. Actually, let me qualify that – it’s more fun with JP around (not all roommates or significant others are created equal). Even small things like making dinner are better when we’re cooking together and chatting about anything and everything while we cook.
Last, but definitely not least, it’s comforting to know I’m not alone. Living by myself is very isolating, and there’s something nice about having another human being right through the next door.
So…what does a roommate-less girl do to entertain herself? Well, in my case, it looks something like this:
I checked my email over a dozen times. Had a few glasses of wine. Inhaled an entire pint of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream. Made a gigantic pot of black bean soup…which I then ate over an entire week. Go to dance class. Work. And spend the rest of my time on my sofa, in my own version of matching pajamas, watching bad re-runs on Hulu and…checking my email again for another dozen times.
Week one down…only about seven more to go.