Home Alone

Posted: 8 November 2008 in joy, the fantastic

Since September, I’ve had company.  Not the sort that you get tired of, hoping they will load the dishwasher and offer the take out the trash.  More the kind that you enjoy having around so much that you don’t notice how exhausting the visit was until they’re gone.  And I supposemy wife isn’t actually company, since she lives here (and I like it).  But she’s off to visit her mom today and I’m home alone. 

I can’t help but whine a little on her way out the door.  I love spending time with her.  But once she’s gone, it’s like that scene with Tom Cruise dancing in his underwear, only I don’t have that white sock sliding thing down.  When I’m home alone I feel like I could do anything.  Build a yacht, learn to stand on my head, paint a fin portrait, do a jig.  Regardless of what I actually end up doing, I end up recharged. 

I’ll be happy when she comes back, but in the meantime, I intend to work on that sock thing…


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