I stink at living alone.
Let me tell you a little secret.
Sometimes I get kind of excited when my husband says he's going out of town for business. It's not that I don't love that guy--he's a really amazing fellow, and if you met him, you would love him too. He's that kind of guy. But I also relish the chance to be alone--to do whatever I want, to have complete control of the TV remote, to not worry about the look he might give me if I decide to eat some dinner leftovers straight out of the fridge at 10 o'clock at night. Alone time is kind of freeing that way.
So when he's gone, I immediately start making plans for the glorious things I will do with all this free time I think I'm going to have: make curtains! Work on my novel! Get in a hot bath and read for hours! Clean out the closet! Exercise every day and miraculously lose 5 pounds while he's gone so he'll be impressed with how fabulous I look when he comes back!
As evening approaches, I'm excited about my plans. And then it's dinner time and the kids are tired and whiny and then they all need baths and stories and tooth-brushing and bedtime songs, and the next thing you know it's 8 p.m. (if I'm lucky and it's not even later) and I'm exhausted. I sit around for awhile, looking at a magazine or reading Facebook updates, and then I finally rouse myself from my stupor and decide to get cracking on all these awesome projects I have planned.
I think things through: I could do A (curtains), B (novel), C (bath), D (closet), or E (exercise). Instead I either choose option F: attempt all of the above...or option G: do none of the above and pour a glass of white wine and watch TV instead.
In either scenario, I accomplish nothing meaningful on ANY of my projects and...since there's no one around to tell me to go bed...I stay up past midnight and when the kids are rising and shining at 6:30, Mom is still lying in bed, grouchy and tired.
Repeat a couple nights in a row, and Mom gets really grouchy and tired. And still none of my projects are even close to complete. It's like without another grown-up in the house, I completely lose all sense of perspective on what is reasonable to accomplish in a single day, and how much sleep I really need in order to function. I like to think that if I really did live alone, instead of just playing at it every now and then when he has to travel for work, I'd figure out some way to get into a groove and not be such an all-or-nothing maniac. But so far, I haven't figured that out yet.
To my credit, so far this week, I've managed to keep the house running fairly smoothly, and I did actually take a hot bath and read a couple times, and I've gotten caught up on all the new episodes of Glee. Curtains and closet-cleaning and all the other grand plans I had? Not looking so good. Well, I've got a couple more days till he gets home. Maybe I'll manage to get them done. All of them! Tonight!
Or maybe not.
Sometimes I get kind of excited when my husband says he's going out of town for business. It's not that I don't love that guy--he's a really amazing fellow, and if you met him, you would love him too. He's that kind of guy. But I also relish the chance to be alone--to do whatever I want, to have complete control of the TV remote, to not worry about the look he might give me if I decide to eat some dinner leftovers straight out of the fridge at 10 o'clock at night. Alone time is kind of freeing that way.
So when he's gone, I immediately start making plans for the glorious things I will do with all this free time I think I'm going to have: make curtains! Work on my novel! Get in a hot bath and read for hours! Clean out the closet! Exercise every day and miraculously lose 5 pounds while he's gone so he'll be impressed with how fabulous I look when he comes back!
As evening approaches, I'm excited about my plans. And then it's dinner time and the kids are tired and whiny and then they all need baths and stories and tooth-brushing and bedtime songs, and the next thing you know it's 8 p.m. (if I'm lucky and it's not even later) and I'm exhausted. I sit around for awhile, looking at a magazine or reading Facebook updates, and then I finally rouse myself from my stupor and decide to get cracking on all these awesome projects I have planned.
I think things through: I could do A (curtains), B (novel), C (bath), D (closet), or E (exercise). Instead I either choose option F: attempt all of the above...or option G: do none of the above and pour a glass of white wine and watch TV instead.
In either scenario, I accomplish nothing meaningful on ANY of my projects and...since there's no one around to tell me to go bed...I stay up past midnight and when the kids are rising and shining at 6:30, Mom is still lying in bed, grouchy and tired.
Repeat a couple nights in a row, and Mom gets really grouchy and tired. And still none of my projects are even close to complete. It's like without another grown-up in the house, I completely lose all sense of perspective on what is reasonable to accomplish in a single day, and how much sleep I really need in order to function. I like to think that if I really did live alone, instead of just playing at it every now and then when he has to travel for work, I'd figure out some way to get into a groove and not be such an all-or-nothing maniac. But so far, I haven't figured that out yet.
To my credit, so far this week, I've managed to keep the house running fairly smoothly, and I did actually take a hot bath and read a couple times, and I've gotten caught up on all the new episodes of Glee. Curtains and closet-cleaning and all the other grand plans I had? Not looking so good. Well, I've got a couple more days till he gets home. Maybe I'll manage to get them done. All of them! Tonight!
Or maybe not.
5 comments:
Some days, I SWEAR we're related. I sometimes go so far as to get movies I know Roger wouldn't like, just to watch them when he's gone. Do I watch them? ... Sometimes.
I'm a maniac when Russ leaves too. Anymore I expect to not get anything done and plan to be super lazy and gain five pounds. Good thing he rarely travels anymore.
Oh, you make me laugh, Jen -- and in the kindred spirit kind of way. I do the exact same thing. You'd think I'd sleep better with the whole bed to myself, but no, I always toss and turn after staying up too late.
I do almost the same thing...only I find I appreciate my husband so much more when he returns beacuse the time between 5pm & 8pm seems so long and tiring, before the kids go to bed without my husband to help out.
I look forward to eating whatever I want for dinner, or not fixing dinner at all and eating leftovers!
I am laughing because I do just about the same thing. Stay up way too late and accomplish next to nothing in the process. Glad we have good guys to balance us out!
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