Last night, I drove Paul to the airport, kissed him at the curb, and drove home by myself. He’ll be out of town, attending a conference in the Bay Area, until mid-day Sunday. That’s over 100 hours during which we will not see each other. I remark on this because it will be only the second time, in the 7 1/2 years of our marriage, that we have been apart for this long.
Now I know that five days is not a very long time. Many couples I know regularly spend much longer periods of time apart, for a variety of reasons. We, however, have not. Furthermore, when we have been apart for a couple of days, I’ve usually been the one leaving on the jet plane. I’m unaccustomed to being alone in our house for any length of time, and I’m now facing several evenings and most of a weekend in which my time will be entirely my own.
What will I do with this time alone? Oh, the possibilities! I could indulge in a variety of pleasures: soaking in a steaming tub until my fingers wrinkle, reading mysteries into the wee hours, making jam at midnight. Or catch up on long-delayed chores: cleaning out closets, polishing my shoes, raking up the tiny yellow leaves that have dropped all over our yard. Or pursue educational endeavors: learning to use my new camera, working on the requirements for my Washington architectural license, studying a little more HTML. And then there are the fantasies fueled by all those cable TV home shows: Why not paint the guest bedroom this weekend? Or reorganize the entire house? Or cook and freeze enough meals for a month? I am woman, hear me… yawn.
I’m still feeling a bit worn down, so the dreams of dominion over hearth and home will have to wait. The big plan for this evening, formulated while writing, consists of butternut squash soup and a turkey sandwich, ‘Lost’ and ‘Law and Order’ on the TV, and polishing the silver. Yes, I really know how to have a good time.
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Sounds like a plan. But don’t forget to include my personal favorite use of time alone. This involves coming home from work and, without doing anything responsible first, lying on the sofa with cat(s), with or without book. I live alone, being a widow lady with grown child, so I am fairly practiced at this activity. In my experience, it does not grow tiresome.
Of course with the trio of cats ever present, you will not be alone. I moved our six cats to Virginia nine months before I moved. Suddenly, the house in Mississippi was really empty except for me. It was amazing to sit and not have at least four animals fighting for a place in, on, behind or beside me. Oh, and they can keep feet warm.
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