I realized recently that I am living by myself for the first time since I was in college. Don't get me wrong, I'm not boo-hoo-ing or anything, but I will confess it's kind of weird.
While it's true I had some time alone in the house while I was fixing it up to sell it, I was really busy painting and cleaning and sorting and throwing away. It was a hellish year. And although I bought the condo over a year ago I only really moved in last March, and I'd barely set things up when Boy-child arrived from Chicago. So all I'm saying is I wasn't really alone or bach-ing it or anything until now. Did I mention that Boy-child moved out? He did.
Anyway, here I am, already developing some bad habits. Like taking over the coffee table:
The new job is starting to take off now, which I'm very happy about (one can only take so much training). Taking the light rail to work is wonderful even if strange things sometimes happen - like the other day when we had to switch trains for reasons unknown. I was happily listening to music and knitting when a kind soul advised me that we had to get off (she noticed I had not heard the announcement). Working downtown is great…you never know what you're going to encounter. The other day I was following a blind woman wearing four-inch heels through the skyway.
Last night was book club (Flight Behavior by Kingsolver). Interesting discussion - feelings about the book varied widely. Have you read it? Did you like it? Next month is The Warmth of Other Suns which is a hefty tome, so I'd better get started.