Living by oneself is often mesmerizingly perfect (that's not a word, but it works so I'm sticking with it). I have picked out everything in my apartment (or at least approved of it- I still have some leftovers from the parental units). I know where everything is; nothing moves if I don't touch it. Everything is exactly where I want it to be and all the artwork is mine. I only have myself to blame when I come home to an empty fridge and I can leave my blow dryer on the bathroom counter all day. My home is as messy or as clean as I want it to be on any given day and I don't have to wake up on the weekends to anyone else's schedule but my own. I can take an afternoon nap if I please and wear my favorite, softest, holiest t-shirt to bed. Heck, I can even have a terrible chic flick on while I iron in complete bliss. (Yes, iron and bliss in the same sentence.)
There is, however, one drawback that seems to repeat itself regularly. Sundays are particularly difficult when I'm not really busy. I like to have a set schedule (running, meetings, lunches, errands) because it keeps me from getting lonely, and sometimes I even enjoy a lazy Sunday afternoon to get homework (and housework) done before the start of the week. But some weekends, the solitude takes its toll.
Normally, I would sulk, read a book, go to bed early, and try to be productive. But yesterday, I couldn't take it any longer. So I let someone in. And lesson learned. I generally have a hard time letting myself look vulnerable or asking someone for what I want (and we wonder why I have difficultly with the boys), but I managed to do exactly that. Well, sorta. I didn't exactly ask for what I want, but I told a friend how I was feeling and he gave me precisely what I needed, plus some. After all, spending time with a person is what makes them feel special. I'm still having a hard time digesting this... so I'm blogging about it. I guess I should make more of a habit of not only letting others in, but opening myself up to the people around me. It was definitely the highlight of my weekend and I wouldn't have enjoyed those hours of company had I not been brave enough to put myself out there.
Normally, I would sulk, read a book, go to bed early, and try to be productive. But yesterday, I couldn't take it any longer. So I let someone in. And lesson learned. I generally have a hard time letting myself look vulnerable or asking someone for what I want (and we wonder why I have difficultly with the boys), but I managed to do exactly that. Well, sorta. I didn't exactly ask for what I want, but I told a friend how I was feeling and he gave me precisely what I needed, plus some. After all, spending time with a person is what makes them feel special. I'm still having a hard time digesting this... so I'm blogging about it. I guess I should make more of a habit of not only letting others in, but opening myself up to the people around me. It was definitely the highlight of my weekend and I wouldn't have enjoyed those hours of company had I not been brave enough to put myself out there.
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