...when I liked living alone.
Tonight my roommates are out of town. I came home to a dark, quiet house. I was looking forward to having some quiet time but now that I have gotten it, I am bored.
It's weird that I went a whole year living alone. Every night I came home to a dark, quiet house. Now, I'd be sad if this was always the case.
I like people.
I like hearing the muffled music from their rooms.
I like the smell of something cooking in the kitchen.
I like when they bring people into our house that I would never meet outside of this setting.
I like having someone know where I am at during the day.
I like having people to squeal with when there is a mouse.
I like watching mindless TV with people.
What was I thinking wanting to live alone? I think it was a ploy to prove my independence to myself. Almost a test. Did I pass? Probably. Would I do it again. Nope. At least I hope not. Who knows though. There is somewhat of a pride issue lingering. Like, I don't want to be the 26 year old lady living with the youngsters. When is the time to move on? Is there a time to move on? How long will I live in this house? Who will be my next roommates?