Alone Time
What do you do when you're alone? I had time to ponder this question last weekend, when Mr. Pink went down to Mammoth to go snowboarding with some friends. He left Wednesday night and he didn't get home until Sunday afternoon, which is the longest we've spent away from each other in our short marriage (coming up on a year and a half!).
At first, I was looking forward to being alone. After all, before we got married, I lived by myself, and I loved it. I loved only being responsible for my mess, I loved staying up as late as I wanted, I loved being able to keep every single back issue of every single magazine that I subscribed to without someone threatening to throw the whole pile in the trash, I loved the fact that if I was out of Coke or some other staple (yes, I do consider Coke a "staple'), it was no one's fault but my own. But then I got married, and although living with someone else was an adjustment, I started to love that, too. Yes, even with Mr. Pink's chronic inability to put away his clothes, thus creating what I like to not-so-lovingly call the"laundry mountain" in our bedroom. And his dislike of "quiet time"--the TV must be on, even if he's not watching it.
The first thing I noticed about being home alone was how quiet it was. And that wasn't a bad thing. Seriously, the constant drone of the TV is a low-level stressor for me. I know other people don't like it when it's really quiet, but I am just not that good of a multitasker. When I want to sit and read, I want to sit and read, not listen to some inane sports patter on the television. The second thing I noticed was how much I missed Mr. Pink. Like, immediately. I knew I would miss him, but I didn't realize that I would miss him so completely just in the first few hours that I was alone. And the third thing I noticed was what a "neat sleeper" I am. When Mr. Pink and I wake up in the morning, the covers and the pillows are strewn about this way and that. When I sleep alone, I turn back a corner of the bed, climb in, and sleep peacefully until the alarm goes off. Well, that's if you don't count the two or three trips to the bathroom that I make every night. But still, when I get up the next morning, it's very easy to make the bed. Simply fold the corner back up, realign the pillows and go.
The best thing about being alone was that I got to indulge in all my guilty pleasures without any disapproval from anyone. I could eat chocolate in bed. I didn't have to throw away any magazines. I could read without the accompaniment of the television. I got to lounge on the couch and watch the entire first season of Grey's Anatomy on DVD without anyone making exasperated comments about the "stupid chick show." (Sacrilege, I tell you! It's really good. And the episode recaps on TVGasm are even better! I'm also way into Grey Matter, the Grey's Anatomy writers' blog.) I didn't have to cook dinner--I could subsist on potstickers, microwave popcorn and Coke with grenadine if I so chose. Actually, the Pater Familias was all alone that weekend, too, so he fed me a couple of times. We had a delicious breakfast at our favorite spot, which I am not going to name because too many people go there already, and then he cooked steaks that night. I tried to get him to watch Grey's Anatomy, but he just fell asleep
I got to indulge myself over the weekend. I even had a facial. But then, on Sunday afternoon, Mr. Pink came home, and I was so glad to see him. After all, he's happy to share the microwave popcorn with me, and he always lets me place my icy hands and feet on his warm body to warm them up in bed. And he makes me laugh and laugh. No one else made me laugh while he was gone. Still, I do enjoy a little alone time now and then. So spill. What do you do when you're alone?
At first, I was looking forward to being alone. After all, before we got married, I lived by myself, and I loved it. I loved only being responsible for my mess, I loved staying up as late as I wanted, I loved being able to keep every single back issue of every single magazine that I subscribed to without someone threatening to throw the whole pile in the trash, I loved the fact that if I was out of Coke or some other staple (yes, I do consider Coke a "staple'), it was no one's fault but my own. But then I got married, and although living with someone else was an adjustment, I started to love that, too. Yes, even with Mr. Pink's chronic inability to put away his clothes, thus creating what I like to not-so-lovingly call the"laundry mountain" in our bedroom. And his dislike of "quiet time"--the TV must be on, even if he's not watching it.
The first thing I noticed about being home alone was how quiet it was. And that wasn't a bad thing. Seriously, the constant drone of the TV is a low-level stressor for me. I know other people don't like it when it's really quiet, but I am just not that good of a multitasker. When I want to sit and read, I want to sit and read, not listen to some inane sports patter on the television. The second thing I noticed was how much I missed Mr. Pink. Like, immediately. I knew I would miss him, but I didn't realize that I would miss him so completely just in the first few hours that I was alone. And the third thing I noticed was what a "neat sleeper" I am. When Mr. Pink and I wake up in the morning, the covers and the pillows are strewn about this way and that. When I sleep alone, I turn back a corner of the bed, climb in, and sleep peacefully until the alarm goes off. Well, that's if you don't count the two or three trips to the bathroom that I make every night. But still, when I get up the next morning, it's very easy to make the bed. Simply fold the corner back up, realign the pillows and go.
The best thing about being alone was that I got to indulge in all my guilty pleasures without any disapproval from anyone. I could eat chocolate in bed. I didn't have to throw away any magazines. I could read without the accompaniment of the television. I got to lounge on the couch and watch the entire first season of Grey's Anatomy on DVD without anyone making exasperated comments about the "stupid chick show." (Sacrilege, I tell you! It's really good. And the episode recaps on TVGasm are even better! I'm also way into Grey Matter, the Grey's Anatomy writers' blog.) I didn't have to cook dinner--I could subsist on potstickers, microwave popcorn and Coke with grenadine if I so chose. Actually, the Pater Familias was all alone that weekend, too, so he fed me a couple of times. We had a delicious breakfast at our favorite spot, which I am not going to name because too many people go there already, and then he cooked steaks that night. I tried to get him to watch Grey's Anatomy, but he just fell asleep
I got to indulge myself over the weekend. I even had a facial. But then, on Sunday afternoon, Mr. Pink came home, and I was so glad to see him. After all, he's happy to share the microwave popcorn with me, and he always lets me place my icy hands and feet on his warm body to warm them up in bed. And he makes me laugh and laugh. No one else made me laugh while he was gone. Still, I do enjoy a little alone time now and then. So spill. What do you do when you're alone?
posted by Astera @ 9:02 AM
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