Celebrating Good Times Solo Style

Me, celebrating five day freedom.

Me, celebrating five day freedom.

So I think I’ve finally emerged from my metaphorical Kingdom of Gloom and Doom. This was greatly helped by the fact that my roommate is out of town for the next FIVE DAYS for a pirate convention (she’s into tall ships) and I have the place all to myself. My only responsibility is to feed her cat and empty the kitty litter once in a while.

I like my roommate, but it’s fantastic to have the place all to myself for once. My plan is to fully enjoy the solitude and barely leave the apartment. In fact, I only plan on one outing a day, which will consist of me stepping out onto my balcony and getting some sun in order to avoid developing Rickets. Or maybe I’ll just take some extra vitamin D. In either case, it’s going to be a solitary stake out here for the next five days and I couldn’t be happier.

I have so many exciting plans. I’m going to put the air conditioning at a more reasonable level (she keeps it at 65, I like it at 75), watch weird Netflix movies loudly and into the wee hours of the morning, take up the whole sofa and read for hours on end without interruption, walk around in my underwear, blast Salsa and all known genres of Latin music from sunrise to sunset, sing and dance badly, shamelessly and with abandon, cook smelly meals late at night, leave dishes in the sink for at least two days in a row and give the cat evil looks because I don’t like cats and I don’t have to pretend anymore. At least for the next five days.  Actually, that sounds mean. As long as the cat stays on its side of the apartment, evil looks won’t be necessary.

Also, I’ve decided on my gift to myself for my 30th birthday: My own place. For a mere $200 more a month, I can have my very own 650 square foot studio apartment in this very same building! Which is a very exciting prospect because I’ve never lived on my own. I lived with my family, then went to college and lived in a dorm, then moved to Colombia and lived with my grandma for a while, then roommates, then a tiny apartment with my then boyfriend now ex-husband and then moved back to the U.S where I lived with my parents for a while (what can I say? I’m a millennial). So the idea of my very own place sounds extremely enticing. And also very grown up!



Categories: Me, Me, Me

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  1. I Think my Roommate’s Cat Hates me and I Need a Vacuum. « My (Former) Nomad Life

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