You know what I love about living alone? The ability to wallow in my feelings.
It's easy to cheer me up, distract me, elicit laughter. When I get mopey, as is my tendency, I very much appreciate any effort to ease that feeling. So living at home, then in the dorms, then in an apartment with roommates, I was seldom allowed to really settle into sadness. The simple act of having someone around would often be plenty to lift my spirits.
I find that some of you easily do the same - playing the question game with me, either through email or comments, a little "Stop being mopey!" in my Gmail account - then I'm back to smiles and eager to interact.
But living alone allows me to turn off the laptop, let phone calls go to voicemail, and settle in. I have work stuff to figure out - plans and irritations and how I want to spend my time here. It's good overall, actually. But today was bad, and I want to feel sorry for myself, drink wine and wallow.
And so begins the evening of pouting to kick off a weekend that must be spent in the office. I hope your Friday nights are better spent.