(no subject)
Friday night I got home from work just before 8 p.m. and because there was nothing else to eat, I had icecream for dinner. I should have ordered in. I would have ordered in. If only I wasn't all alone. I know, that's ridiculous. Why shouldn't I order in just because there's only one of me? I'd have leftovers! I could eat the rest for breakfast. But it's something I don't even think of doing because it just seems to strange to do by yourself. And then I realized: I miss having roommates. Living alone is overrated, almost as much as Belle and Sebastien. Being able to walk around in your ginch and never having to clean up after someone else is great, I admit. But when you live alone you'll never come home to dinner on the stove, a clean house that you didn't have to labour over, kisses. When you live alone you never have to listen to someone else's crappy music, but then you don't have the advantage of a double-sized CD collection either. You'll never go to put on your shoes only to find your roommate borrowed them without asking again, but when you have nothing to wear, you really have nothing to wear. No one ever flips your laundry for you. No one is there to hear about your bad/good day. You never wake up to coffee already made. In a thunder storm you sit by yourself on the living room floor wondering if the hail could possibly break the windows and what would you do if it did?
It's been almost two years now that I've lived alone. There are people who do this their whole adult lives. I don't want to be one of them.
It's been almost two years now that I've lived alone. There are people who do this their whole adult lives. I don't want to be one of them.