Is Living Alone Making You Weird?

[Sparkle]

I would agree that I just am a bit weird, full stop; and living alone neither makes me more or less so.

I do think living alone makes me lazier though. I do chores as and when they suit me. In fact I do everything in my own time, to suit my own schedule, whims and needs - when I live alone.

I do talk to my pets. I play my music too loud and I dance about the house in my undergarments. I procrastinate mopping the floors and I allow the recycling to pile up. I fold all of my laundry but then leave it stacked in my bedroom. I'm often to be found in mismatched outfits, manky old slippers and a bit of left-over mascara smudged cross my face on weekend mornings.

And when I'm feeling particularly self-indulgent (like this morning) I return to my bed (after my dog walk): in my pajamas, with my dodgy hair, a pot of french press coffee, the back catalog of EBTG, a stack of fashion porn, my laptop propped in front of me, my iphone lit up with texts, two cats practicing the art of napping beside me, a new book and absolutely no plans nor obligations. It's quite blissful.

I also love that when I come home from a long and rough day - I can find peace and solace, a deep sense of quiet in my own space. It helps me recharge and allows me to regroup.

[deedarino]

Originally Posted by Sparkle

I would agree that I just am a bit weird, full stop; and living alone neither makes me more or less so.

I do think living alone makes me lazier though. I do chores as and when they suit me. In fact I do everything in my own time, to suit my own schedule, whims and needs - when I live alone.

I do talk to my pets. I play my music too loud and I dance about the house in my undergarments. I procrastinate mopping the floors and I allow the recycling to pile up. I fold all of my laundry but then leave it stacked in my bedroom. I'm often to be found in mismatched outfits, manky old slippers and a bit of left-over mascara smudged cross my face on weekend mornings.

And when I'm feeling particularly self-indulgent (like this morning) I return to my bed (after my dog walk): in my pajamas, with my dodgy hair, a pot of french press coffee, the back catalog of EBTG, a stack of fashion porn, my laptop propped in front of me, my iphone lit up with texts, two cats practicing the art of napping beside me, a new book and absolutely no plans or obligations. It's quite blissful.

I also love that when I come home from a long and rough day - I can find peace and solace, a deep sense of quiet in my own space. It helps me recharge and allows me to regroup.

We must be soul sisters...you just described my life in detail. Blissful is a beautiful word for it.