Welcome to my Sunday morning. Late morning actually.
Last night was pretty sedate after I decided to try out an audio blog. I’d do one now if the television wasn’t blaring ‘Ben 10 Alien Force’ (good episode), the dryer is tumbling my clothes in the background and a needy cat is meowing for my attention.
My exciting Saturday night was spent on my lounge chair with a cup of hot tea in hand while I stared at the darkening sky. Clouds were inching their way across my line of sight and I wondered where their journey would take them. Would they drift across the sky and lord over new places or would they dissipate as soon as I lost interest or could no longer see them?
I was so caught up in the delightful rare silence in my area that I didn’t hear my phone playing the Imperial March/Darth Vader telling me that the dark side was calling *sorry Chel!*
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I then went inside and poured myself some wine and watched Memento.
This week I’m going to print up the instructions for disabling my Anti-Theft System and just do it (something about clipping a yellow wire when the car is on)- I’m doing to die, aren’t I? And then I’ll say good-bye to July.
Now onto the ‘Single Life”. Sometimes I wonder what life would be like if I didn’t have an independent streak that scares suitors away. I long for companionship, but I’m self reliant. It makes for even more slim pickings. I think instinctively most (not all) men want to be with a woman who relies on them. Helpless without them perhaps. I’m needy! But only when things become too overwhelming and it’d be nice to shift some of the burden over “Can you please take care of the car so I can fix the washer and do the grocery shopping, take care of Jonathon, wash clothes, fix meals, clean up after the cats, take care of the bills, and do my hair?” It’d help me not to fantasize about being in a fetal position for five minutes so I can get my head together and tackle stuff once I’m finished sucking my thumb. I think for the most part I expect people to leave so I never get into the habit of getting used to them, let alone counting on them.
The single person may find themselves in awkward situations now and then because our lives are a little bit more grey than the coupled person. We are not the moral police for others. Guilt is something we bring upon ourselves- but it’s not necessary. Unless you intentionally go out of your way to hurt someone… than most negative emotions are pointless.
Although we miss some of the things that others take for granted and there’s definitely a downside there are certain perks that make up for it. What are those perks? If you’re a coupled person, then you probably know what they are- ‘Quiet time’, ‘Not answering to anyone for your actions’, ‘Making a decision without someone second guessing you or causing you to feel inadequate for that decision’, ‘Watching what you want’, ‘Wearing what you want’, ‘Going where you want and not having to tell anyone where you’ve been.’
I don’t believe in a hell. I’ve no eyes to judge me other than my own. I can’t care what other people decide to do or not do with their lives. I don’t judge other people and I expect the same consideration. If they do opt to judge me then it’s still not my concern. How it must suck to have so little of a life where you must obsess about someone else.
I don’t party nor do I care to. I don’t do street drugs or anything illegal- and I don’t even date. I’m not a mean person and I’d never inflict pain or misery on another person intentionally (sometimes my conversations can be so painfully boring that I unintentionally inflict misery). There are a million secrets of others that I’m taking to my grave and for the most part, I prefer to be a bonus in life as opposed to a bane. I think I’ve earned the right to a few moments here and there where I don’t have to be the saint of the world.
Tonight’s agenda: I just finished bringing my hair down a shade or two, showered, refreshed and smelling like raspberries. I’ve no idea what I want to do with my evening. Things have been pretty quiet on this end for a while and it’s just been me inside my own head once the eight o’clock hour chimes. More wine, more sitting on my back porch, more film or more writing. Perhaps all four.
