If you've read my last several posts, I'm sure you've realized that something is very different in my life. I don't really want to talk about it, even here, but I am currently living alone. I have a one bedroom apartment with my dog, cat (who I'm finally living with again after two years), and four fish tanks (two of them are very small...).
A friend of mine assured me that I would love living alone. I was skeptical, but it turns out that she's right. I have certainly been happier in my lifetime, but there is a lovely freedom to not having roommates. I can make whatever food I want, I can leave things out and it's not the end of the world, I use my space however I want. It's invigorating. That all being said, I have never kept a living space so clean (aside from dog toys on the ground, which is a battle I just can't win). I can leave dishes in the sink, no one's going to bug me about them, so I do them promptly. I can leave jewelry out of the table, so instead I put it away. As a child, I was extremely contrary, as an adult, I do my absolute best not to be, but it stills come through sometimes.
I was rereading my early posts on the blog (there were some horrendous typos and grammar errors, sorry) and was realizing that living alone this time is nothing like it was back then. Back then, I was living in someone else's space. I only had a room to myself and it chafed on me. Here, though there are times when I'm so lonely I can hardly function, at least the space is mine.
I miss people a lot. But having my own place is nice.
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