So here's what I have to say about that myth, made stronger by the pandemic, that single people have more time and freedom:
I love my independence to the point that if Mr. Perfect For Me showed up on my doorstep holding a pound of Peet’s coffee, a bouquet of daffodils, and a baby goat, and then asked me to have a chat about karate, I’d hesitate.
I love my independence to the point that if Mr. Perfect For Me showed up on my doorstep holding a pound of Peet’s, a bouquet of daffodils, and a baby goat, and then asked me to talk about karate, I’d hesitate.
So I am not looking for sympathy.
But. I do want to make this point.
When you’re single, you deal with crap like this all by yourself. All. The. Time. The responsibility for everything in your life falls 100% on YOU and you alone.
When you’re single, you deal with crap like this all by yourself. All. The. Time. The responsibility for everything in your life falls 100% on YOU and you alone.
Yes, I succeeded in the end because that’s what a single person always has to do. That’s been especially true since March of 2020. The single life is not all Netflix and sourdough starter.
And I did it with one dog (the one named after the afore mentioned beloved coffee) puking all over my freshly mopped floor and another dog having an anxiety attack in my bedroom.
Again.
I don’t need sympathy or praise. What I need is for people to understand that as a single person, I do not have endless time and endless freedom.
And that, dear readers, is my unpopular opinion.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get a splinter out of my pinky, clean up four puddles of vomit, and get all this debris up to the dumpster before any staples or pieces of wood end up in anyone’s feet or paws.
Oh yeah! I meant to tell you. I got a new stove.
It's pretty. Right?
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