I’ve been living by myself for the past few days while AngelA’s at her cottage. I’ve been left on my own for a day or two in the past, but this is the longest stretch for quite some time. I feel like such a grown up.
It’s kind of like being a bachelor again, except there’s a few differences. One, I don’t have any obligation to go out and “meet new people”. Two, she’s coming back, so I actually have to keep the place tidy. Win some, lose some.
So, today’s “live like a bachelor” tip is: if you sleep on top of your covers, you don’t have to make the bed. How cool is that?
Of course, even though I’m getting some decent work done, isolation has some disadvantages, most of which involve my brain going way too far on some chains of dubious logic. For example, here’s an excerpt from a call I had with my mom this weekend:
Me: Yep, AngelA’s gone.
Mom: She’s coming back, right?
Me: (joking, honest!) Well, she did pack a lot of stuff…
This is the point where a mother is supposed to laugh and say something like “oh, I’m sure you two will be fine” or whatever. Maybe that just applies to moms who don’t own bongs, because here’s the actual reply:
Mom: Yeah, that’s how it was with your uncle when it happened to him.
Yay! I got to spend the next 24 hours wandering around trying to figure out what that meant. What did AngelA and my mom talk about last weekend when I left the table to go to the washroom? WHAT DID SHE KNOW?
I talked to AngelA on the phone yesterday, and she swears it’s all ok. Still, if this post turns out to be “not at all funny” in the sense that it’s MY groin that gets hit, I’m going to feel pretty dumb, but I really wanted to share the making the bed tip. I was smiling all the way to work with thoughts of my cleverness from that one.
Tomorrow we’ll have a lively discussion on pest control techniques.