So I've spent past week and half living alone, and I can safely say I don't care much for it.
No, there's no crisis - I sent the Lovely Bride back east for her mother's birthday, and stayed out here with the intent to work and savor the solitude. Which lasted about two days before the loneliness and low-level irritationset in.
Part of it is that I haven't been on my own for a while, so it took a little time to get back into sync. I eventually remembered I tended to do big breakfasts and light dinners when I am on my own. It took me about five days to remember that I could make omelets again (the LB is deathly allergic to eggs). It took me about that long to realize I could sleep in the middle of the bed.
I found that I didn't care much for using the hot tub when alone. And the pitcher of frozen rum slushies in the freezer stayed there. However, I relearned to make french toast (with a little cinnamon in the batter). I bought a steak and it lasted three days (as a meal, as the topping for a steak salad, and in an omelet with swiss cheese).
I found my weekdays were pretty full enough, between gaming and tai chi, so the weekends only gave the chance to fully engage with being on my own. But even so, when I was writing I would rather be reading, and when I was reading I wondered what was on TV and while watching TV all I could think about was what I intended to be writing. So if anything, I suffered a lack of direction.
Oh, and I didn't watch the Olympics much at all. Nothing held my interest. Except the rowing events on CBC. Whenever I passed them, I stopped and watched.
The cats were more confused than I. It took Harley about four days to realize that the Lovely Bride/Food Goddess wasn't coming back immediately, and she switched allegiances easily, following me from room to room. Victoria, imperious as always, has decided to wait it out, and treats me as a temp, to be tolerated at best.
And things have happened over the past week. I broke a flower pot while watering the outdoor containers. I caught (and released) a mouse that the cats had trapped in the basement. I dealt with hot days and a massive lightning storm overhead (power did not go out) and the fact that the garage door went up part-way in the middle of the night without explanation. I got a flat tire this morning and put on the spare. Did dishes and laundry, cleaned up the place a bit. And in general, I survived.
But it wasn't particularly fun, even with relaying the data in the evening to the LB over the phone. It was sort of just running in place, and while I could do it, I can safely say I wasn't enjoying myself at it.
So the Lovely B returns this evening, and I will hear stories and tell her about the stuff I didn't cover in our evening chats, and things will get back to normal and I will be able to concentrate a bit more. And I'm looking forward to that.
No one says “full point.” Full stop. - First, let’s go back to 2014 or thereabouts, when I first bought my copy of the New Oxford Style Manual. I’d taken on a couple of English clients, and I wa...
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