Home Alone

Cooked up on September 8, 2012

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I’m home alone this week while my husband is off on a commercial shoot. He has a cool job which involves some very exciting things. That means he travels from time to time. During this time, I frequently sit and browse random stuff on the internet, watch Futurama and also play Sim City way too much (You have plenty of frickin water pumps, tiny people! But fine, I’ll build you a stadium. After I raise the residential tax. Muahaha.)

Here is how I get there:

1. I make a really, really large list of things to do to keep myself busy. I grew up with three brothers, many cousins and – literally – sports team rosters of friends. I have lived alone for approximately six months of my life in total. I am not great at hanging out by myself, but I am getting better.

I promise I’m a functional adult. I just really love having people around me. Especially my husband. I married him BECAUSE I think he is rad and I pretty much want to hang out with him until we are 113 years old. Longer, if possible. It’s weird having him not be here!

2. I get overwhelmed by my to-do list. This process is meticulously documented in a Hyperbole and a Half comic you may have read once or eight times.

3. I pour a glass of wine and make one of my favorite occasional treat comfort foods – one that my husband isn’t a big fan of: my grandmother’s oyster stew. We’re talking CANNED oysters – oh yes, this dates back to some very tough economic times for small town Kansans, milk, butter, salt and pepper. And a whole lot of oyster crackers.  I try to only make this stew when he’s not home, because if you don’t like it, the smell is not fun. Dave doesn’t like it. My dad feels the same way. However, my mom, grandma and I are totally addicted to the stuff. Must be in our DNA somewheres.

4. After I have my stew, I get back on track. I can totally do this! Five more days.

1 Comment »

  1. I understand. My husband is required to travel for work and although it’s just usually a day or two, sometimes it’s three or four. Recently he was gone for two weeks and whenever it’s more than about 48 hours I have this weird floating feeling. It’s like I have to give myself things to do, to institute structure for myself lest I get all childish and irresponsible. Having a dog to care for grounds me at least some. I do similar food things – either making things only I like or in the instance of this last time, take the opportunity to try out new recipes that I know he’ll have zero interest in. It gets that out of my system and if they aren’t great (none of them were this time) I’m the only one responsible for eating them.

    Comment by Kris — September 9, 2012 @ 6:28 am

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