GB is out of town for the next few days, and while I do miss him, there's a joy in being all by myself, doing exactly as I wish. Which mostly involves not wearing pants (which I can do even when he's home, fortunately) and playing with my Wii. (I also play with the homophone of my Wii pretty frequently when he's away.)
And while I won't say I'm exactly a slovenly person, let's just say I only make the bed because he prefers it that way, and I'm not bothering to wash the dishes tonight. (Though honestly, I do feel lucky to date someone who doesn't believe in leaving dirty dishes in the sink overnight.) To my credit, I do still flush even when I'm by myself. Even when it's just number one!
I love being part of a couple; in fact, I can't imagine my life any other way anymore. But is there anything wrong with reveling in fake singlehood (without all the wild sex that used to entail) for a few days? (Okay, occasional wild sex. And mostly with myself.)
I don't think so. Now pass me a beer and hand me my Rock Band guitar.
BachCapette Week Deux: Underwater Brotography
10 hours ago