I have thoroughly enjoyed living alone for the last couple of months. I can dance around in my towel to bad music (Bohemian Rhapsody is my new favourite dance tune), I can eat peanut butter straight from the jar in my underwear, I can talk to my cat, I can read out loud, I can sing in the shower, and I can perform crazy cooking experiments in the kitchen without judgement (latest success: cayenne pepper coated almonds). I have no one but myself to blame when every single spoon I own is in the sink or when the bathroom looks like an elephant took a bath in there or when there are no clean towels. Bliss.
But in this very moment, I am hating the fact that I don’t feel secure without a guy in the house. It’s completely stupid. But I want a strong muscley looking fellow to protect me from the rapists/murders/peeping toms/giant spiders/bats (there are bats!?)/centipedes/monsters who I know are all outside my window right now. The cat knows it too. She’s staring at the window. She’s been staring at it for ages. I can’t see whatever it is she can see because I have these thin curtains that only let people see in (sigh). I have a pair of scissors and a hot cup of tea next to me and I’m not afraid to use them. But a giant man roommate would be so much nicer.
I wonder if I could hire a giant man to stand outside both of my windows at night. I also wonder how many times I will hit myself in a few hours when my nerves have calmed down and I read this ridiculous post and hate myself for admitting this nonsense.