Alone

I used to have no problem being alone. I lived alone from the time I was 21 until I was 26. I had no problem with it at all. Then I got married. Once you’re used to being with someone, it is really weird to be alone. I know this sounds corny, but for me it’s true. Every now and then I think about how fun it would be to have a day to myself to do whatever I wanted…take a nice bubble bath, paint my toenails, organize the closet, read magazines, work on craft stuff, etc. You get the point. This week I flew to Salt Lake City for work. I used to think it would be so fun to travel for work. Now I know better. There are parts of traveling for work that are enjoyable, but mostly I would rather just be home with M and Max. I traveled alone this time around (which is normal for my work). I am fine with eating in a restaurant on my own. I am fine with flying alone. However, I do not enjoy staying in a hotel alone…and that is an understatement. I get creeped out when I stay in a hotel alone. If I was staying somewhere fancy like the Ritz, this may not be the case. But I generally stay somewhere that is really cheap. This time around I am staying in a place where you have a little living area and a small kitchen. I have stayed at this hotel before, but this time I have a second floor to my room that has a loft area with another bed and bathroom. The place is ridiculously big for one person. And every time I go in there, I have to open all the doors and look behind everything to make sure I am alone. I am not sure if I have become paranoid or what. Maybe it’s all the mystery books I’ve been reading… It’s funny how I look forward to this kind of alone time but am not enjoying it much (even though I did finish a book last night and started another). Anyway, I am looking forward to when I get to go back home and be with M and Max. Maybe this is another example of not knowing how good I have it until "it" changes.