Home Alone

Featured Image: My lovely living room

As you may know, I moved into my own apartment in July.

A lot of people asked me if the first night was weird… but it wasn’t. Maybe because I was utterly exhausted from the move that I fell asleep fairly easily, and maybe it was the sense of relief I felt that the hard part was over, but I was content. It was like that first night in a new dorm in college; exciting but expected.

Even more people have been saying “isn’t it lonely?” and well, I don’t know if you guys went through quarantine but I sure did. I worked from home all day by myself, spent about 2-3 hours talking to my parents and having dinner, then went to my room and spent the night alone. I’m used to being alone in general (see: It’s OK To Be Alone and It’s Better Than OK To Be Alone). I was an introvert for many years; being alone was my comfort zone. I did come out as an extrovert as I came out of my depression and became more in tune and confident with myself, but I still need my alone time more often than not.

In college, I was placed in a single room freshman year even though I requested a roommate. And I loved it. I needed it. Other than the fact that my friends already didn’t like my boyfriend at the time and would’ve hated how often he stayed over, I needed a space to be alone (and be able to make whatever mess I wanted to). Junior year we convinced ourselves we could do a triple — and I ended up moving out second semester into a single. I was the most depressed I’ve ever been, but it surely did not help that I never had peace and quiet. I needed my own room but loved having friends just a few steps away.

There are downsides, of course. For one, it’s terribly hard to shop and cook for one person. I throw out a lot of food because capitalism is trying to force me into a relationship to split food and the bills. I pay a pretty penny for this place, but that’s the price you pay for being single in this country. And I am extroverted, I get energy when I’m around people, so I do get lonely after working in my apartment and not seeing a human being a few days in a row, but when I get lonely, I hit up my best friend who’s just a few miles away (9 minutes without traffic, 15 minutes with bad Rhode Island drivers).

But I love my apartment. I love having my own space. I moved out to get rats (see: Oh, Rats!) and I’m so happy to have my little roommates. I love being able to make a mess and wait until I have the energy to clean it up instead of having to worry about pissing off anybody. I like being able to walk around my apartment in anything from dirty clothes to absolutely nothing. I like being able to decorate and organize the way I want things to look.

All in all, I’m incredibly happy here with my 5 houseplants, 5 fish, and 2 rats (I’m not the only living thing in here, so am I really alone?)

Bonus Content:

I also talk to myself a LOT. I mean, sometimes I pretend I’m talking to the rats but they’re not super responsive. They have though started to recognize my voice and their names, due to me narrating almost everything I do and asking them their opinion on things like it matters. And like I said, with working-from-home and not leaving my apartment for days at a time, I probably wouldn’t speak a single word if it weren’t for zoom meetings and talking to myself.

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