I just spent the weekend alone. Not that that is that unusual but at some point this morning I realized that with the exception of talking to my mother briefly a couple of times during the weekend, I had not talked to anyone from Thursday afternoon until this morning when I went to work. What I think is remarkable about that fact is that I wasn’t really aware of being alone.
So either I am crazy (always a possibility) or I am more comfortable than I thought at only having me for company. I think I feel good about the latter possibility. Not that I would have ever consciously chosen to spend three and half days without talking to a soul, but it is good know (given my lifestyle and personality) that it is fairly easy to be engaged in my life of singleness.
I didn’t spend the time in bed sleeping or moping. In fact I had a very productive time of washing wool, dyeing some cotton warp for my next project and finishing off a shawl that was on the loom left over from before my holiday travels. I suppose one could argue that it was easy to be alone when I was consumed by working with wool. One could be right.
However perhaps the better question is- should I do anything about it?
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