Hiya!

So, following on from my disastrous episode back in November, when I took a guy home, then sent him away in an Uber after I freaked out, I started to get used to the whole being single thing and set about trying to enjoy it more.

By now, it was the first week of December, and I decided that rather focus on dating anyone, or carry on down the drunken path of self destruction that I’d become scarily accustomed to, it was time to just enjoy being alone. In short, I was revelling in being utterly selfish.

This first became apparent when I realised I could eat WHATEVER I WANTED, without having anyone else’s tastes to think about. There was one day when I just had a continuous stream of Ham & Mozzarella Toasties. Breakfast, lunch and dinner. Oh, and – EATING MUSHROOMS AGAIN. YAS. I mean, my ex was a funghi, but he wasn’t a fan of a Portobello.

I’ll also never forget the sheer indulgent nonchalance of going to the fridge, opening a new block of Cheese, biting a chunk out of it and putting it back. When there’s no-one there to judge you apart from your Cats, who cares, right?

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Another big plus to being single is not having to put up with someone else’s bad habits.

For example. Post night out stale beer breath and excessive snoring. You know what I’m talking about. When they climb into bed and breathe the dregs of 10 pints of IPA into your face. Ahh. Drunk by unavoidable inhalation.

Is now the time to mention the skanky, yellow, sweat stained old pillows that for some puzzling reason men refuse to let us replace? I took great joy in binning those monstrosities post break up. They almost had their own celebratory burial.

It should be mentioned at this point, that mutual bad habits are exempt from this. Yes, I’m talking about the joint expelling of bodily gases, of which we ALL exert when comfortable in a relationship. Don’t even try and deny it. Whilst we’re on this subject, I am definitely guilty of¬†delivering bass filled burps which could probably wake up the whole neighbourhood. I didn’t get nicknamed ‘BULLFROG’ on my bestie’s hen do for nothing.

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Anyway. I digress. We wouldn’t be human without our bad habits, and when you love someone you put up with it. When that’s gone, you don’t have to anymore. A huge plus.

The age old TV remote debate is another thing you can banish to the basement of distant memories when you’re single. I felt sheer joy deleting Rugby, Rugby, and more Rugby off the Sky planner when he’d departed. I then replaced it with series links to the Great British Bake Off, Sky Arts documentaries, GIRLS and Sunday Brunch. It looked EVER SO LOVELY. The great tv remote/planner debate also relates to the fact you can hog the entire sofa to yourself. EVERY. SINGLE. DAMN. NIGHT. My remote, my sofa, my Nana blanket. YES.

Sleeping alone is something that admittedly, is hard to get used to initially. But, once you do – why sleep on one side when you can do the starfish? I woke up one morning sleeping diagonally across the bed. Another morning I was horizontal. If you want 4 pillows, GO TO TOWN BABES. I also purchased a brand new duvet. A feather one. Fluffy and soft. No more of this microfibre business getting all up in my face thank you please.

The mess is another thing. I won’t go into specifics, but, half the mess, half the stress. WINNING.

Finally, one of the best things about single living is, if you happen to have a nice bottle of wine, it’s ALL YOURS. So get home, close the door behind you, and slip into that peaceful sanctuary you call your humble abode, pour a glass (or 4) of Pinot Noir, and ENJOY your time alone.

It won’t last forever, because you’re that fabulous, you’re bound to meet someone in time, so just make the most of it.

Until next time….

 

L xx

 

 

 

WK 6 PBU – ALL BY MYSELF…& I LOVE IT.
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