I’m currently in the midst of having the house to myself for about a week- my husband Pat is on a trip to LA with his buddy. But this isn’t going to be another post about why separate vacations are normal and healthy for couples (although they are both).
This is about being alone. Not lonely, but alone.
Yes, I do work during the day and yes, I did run errands and whatnot a couple times after work. But especially on the weekend, there are hours upon hours when it’s just me and my 2 cats and my not entirely balanced brain. And you know what? For the most part I like it.
You might wonder why it’s different being alone here versus on vacation. It’s a lot different. On vacation I tend to be out and about quite a bit. Even when I’m in my hotel room I’m probably planning when I’m going next. And there’s the excitement of being on vacation and being in a strange place.
Here I’m just, well, here. Sure I can plan my next vacation and I can plan what to wear to work next week and I can plan what I’m going to do when Pat gets home. And I have thought about all those things. But I’ve had a lot of other thoughts too. Some not so great- I’m not going to lie. But sometimes there is a bliss of having no thoughts at all- just feeling safe and cozy with all my favorite things. My two sweet kitties. My own bed. My own shower (highly underrated perk of home). My comfy recliner. My TV with my remote. My fridge. And yes, myself.
And that’s pretty good.