So I’ve been living alone for the past month. My flatmate was away, I was away, she was back while I was away, she went away when I came back etc. etc. etc. And my alone-ness has brought out the side of me that I usually call quirky but in actual fact is probably more akin to utterly deranged. Does anyone remember that episode of Sex and the City where the girls discuss their Secret Single Behaviour (“SSB” if you love a good acronym)? You know, the one where Carrie admits to eating standing up in her kitchen reading fashion magazines, Charlotte examines her pores in a mirror and Miranda (gasp!) covers her hands in moisturiser, puts on a pair of gloves and watches crappy TV?
MY Secret Single Behaviour? Apparently, I suck all of the helium out of a balloon and then actually talk to myself in that funny, helium voice.
It’s a shame, because I usually pride myself on my ability to spend time alone. I go to the cinema alone all the time, I travel alone, I spend whole days alone just wandering around Edinburgh, in and out of charity shops, not really speaking to another living soul. But living alone, as in, all the time? Well if the past four weeks – and the balloon incident – are anything to go by, it’s probably not for me, or at least, not unless I want to end up stir crazy and stalking my neighbours for want of a more fulfilling activity. So, with some small measure of sadness, it’s goodbye for now to my dreams of that little main door flat for one in the Old Town, draped in floral fabrics and filled with books and balls of wool.
On the upside, I guess I’ll be saving on rent money for many more months to come.
Do you live alone? HOW DO YOU STAND IT?!
Image above from here.