I have been thinking lately about how I have to learn how to be alone. I've never been a big fan of being alone, and really, it's not as bad as I once thought. Chances are that in about 14 months, my son will go off somewhere to college and I will be in this house alone. It's hard to even get my mind around it, but at the same time I think about it a lot. It's like a scab that I can't stop picking at.
Take tonight, for instance. I worked my 9-6 at The L, and my son was gone by the time I got home. He has a play tonight, and after he is probably going to go out with his friends. So I came into a house with no humans in it (2 cats), and I warmed up some leftovers for dinner. I chose to listen to my current audio book while eating, which was nice. It's The Rook by Daniel O'Malley, and it's good, but once my hands were no longer busy with eating I decided to get online.
And here I sit. Bored. The house is a mess, so there is no shortage of chores to be done, but I am tired from a long day at work and I don't want to clean. I could watch TV. I could put a movie into the DVD player. I could get out one of my instruments and play some music and sing. I could pick up a book, or turn on the audio book. I could knit. I could find a way to combine 2 or more of those activities. Still, I am sitting here, thinking about how I'm alone in the house.
It's nice to have some quiet. It's nice to have complete control over my environment. I could go to bed (I am very sleepy, having stayed up too late last night).
Oh - that's another thing. I have trouble going to bed at night when I'm alone in the house. What is that about?
You think about it and get back to me.
I'm going to just sit here. And think. About being alone.