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Sunday, September 4, 2011

Why I hope I don't end up alone

If you were worried about my last blog post, don't worry! I'm alive!

I have been house-sitting with a dog and cat for the weekend. I feel like a super adult because I like to pretend that it's just me living permanently in this grown-up house. I like cleaning (what?) because every mess is mine, so I don't feel like it's a pointless endeavor.

Anyway, I feel like I have definitely gotten a glimpse at what life would be like if I was an older, single woman. This is what Sex and the City doesn't tell you. It's kind of boring living by yourself especially if you don't have 3 other single friends and a Mr. Big or some other romantic encounter to rendezvous with. I bet you they just cut out the scenes of Carrie playing Scrabble by herself or hitting up Netflix or reading everything she gets her hands on or incessantly obsessing over sudoku puzzles...because that doesn't make for a very interesting show.

Case in point: After being by myself for a night, I started talking to myself or attempting conversations with the cat. Except the conversations with the cat are involuntarily in a baby voice. I don't know why.

I'm not ashamed to say that I really want a family some day--if anything, for my mental health. I don't think that makes me anti-feminist. I definitely believe you can (and should) be happy and single, but I'll be the first to admit that relationships are a lot more enriching.

I guess the point of this post is to say, that I do enjoy being in solitude sometimes, but I would rather have it be spaced out between long periods of being with other people (or person) that I love.

That's all.




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