On Living Alone...

I'm trying to balance out my serious posts with posts like my last one, where I complain about being sick and just gush over hot celebrities who help me feel better.  Hopefully this one will be somewhere in between those two extremes.

So for the last 8 weeks, and for 8 more weeks, due to some unfortunate circumstances, I have been / will be living alone.  The idea of living alone is pretty much radically different from the reality of it.  At least for me it was.

Partly because it was unexpected, and partly because I've never lived alone before, the first couple of weeks were downright depressing.  I crawled up in my own world of isolation and I didn't like it, but I didn't know what to do to change.  So I did weird things to try and shake myself up into normal life.  But that didn't work out very well.

What I learned was that what you do when you're by yourself says a lot about myself.  And i didn't like the version of myself that came out in those first couple of weeks.

But also, living alone is scary.  There's no one for you to take care of, and there's no one to take care of you. If you were kidnapped in your sleep no one could really be sure of it for at least a few days.  I have this theory that people aren't meant to live alone.  Nor are they meant to live in hyper-social places like dorms where all of your private life is now public.  And if you want to be alone, or if some weird depressional urge has you being alone, then you still get to hear everyone around you being social and having fun and singing along to Rebecca Black's stupid stupid song.
Those first few weeks were definitely the worst of both worlds.

So I tried to inject myself with the fun things that I used to do when I wasn't so depressed.  In stead of being lonely all the time, I was just alone.  I picked up fun things that I still do.

Let's pretend that "imagine what life would be like married to Mr. Incredible" 

time is not something I actually engage in.

Like one girl dance parties.

And fashion shows.
And turning my room into a work-out room.
And it's ok that you don't want to put on clothes after the shower time. (oops that one was supposed to be a secret)
And thinking time with Mo-tab.
And play with make-up time.
And sit on the floor to do your homework time.
And Disney sing-along time.

Mad props to Henry David Thoreau, man.

My very own Walden Pond?

But f'reals, it's been pretty enlightening.  I've learned about what I like and what I don't and what I do when left to my own devices and how to have fun with myself and how to be comfortable with just myself.

But I'm also seriously ready to move into a house again.