My housemate has been away since July 23rd, so essentially I have been living by myself for almost two weeks and
I AM SO BORED OF MYSELF!
There is a reason that I don’t live alone, full-time. I just don’t like long expanses of time when I’m by myself. With the weekend stretching out ahead of me I’m already making plans so that the time where I’m alone is limited.
It’s strange really, because when I lived in a student house with three other girls, I absolutely craved my own time and couldn’t wait to have the house to myself for a night or an afternoon – but that was a rare occurrence just because there were more of us in the house. It felt like a luxury.
Now that I have a flat to myself, that luxury is now actually more of a drain.
It’s not all bad, of course it’s not; I’ve had friends around and been out to see people some evenings, but on the nights where I haven’t got plans and have only the TV and internet for company from 6pm til bedtime, it’s just a bit too much.
This week I’ve been to the gym four times, just to get out of the house and see some actual humans in the flesh! One of the trainers said “you again?” when I swiped my card this evening. Maybe she thinks the Olympics are inspiring me…but in reality I just want to delay going back to the flat by another hour.
(A benefit of this is that I’ve lost a few pounds and I’m well on the way to a flat tummy…but that’s besides the point)
Another downside is that I have much less motivation to eat, and am having to actually force myself to get off the sofa and cook a meal rather than just eating cereal for dinner. I’ve discovered the best way to do it is to set the table and grab a book … but then the sight of a table laid for one is quite depressing.
Oh I don’t know. There’s that stupid saying that only boring people get bored…I really don’t think I’m a boring person. It’s not like I want to go out clubbing, or bungee jumping or even do anything, really. I just think that I need the socialisation of having another person around, so that when weird things happen like they have this week, I can voice it instead of twirling it round in my head and getting even more confused. I need a sounding board sometimes, and as much as I love my little garden balcony…my baby plants don’t talk back and give advice. Boo.
I also have discovered that I don’t sleep very well in an empty flat. Even though I feel completely safe here, I’ve only had two good nights sleep since Tasha has been away and one of those was the first night back after my holiday when I was so tired it hurt and I probably could have slept through a pneumatic drill outside my room. The other nights though…I just can’t get to sleep, and then I can’t stay asleep because my brain is over-stimulated from lack of proper conversation!
This blog post is far too long and pointless now…thanks, blogosphere, for putting up with me!