Alone

I enjoy my own company which is fortunate as I live alone.  I accept lots of invitation but not all.  I know that my supplies of energy are not as good as they used to be, so I plan how much I will do.  Last week I did very little: this week I will be doing some dog sitting so I shall be more active.

A couple of years ago someone said I was turning into a hermit, possibly because I had declined an invitation to a very noisy family lunch.  And that made me a little defensive so I now record my contacts and make sure that I maintain an interest in the outside world.  

I use my phone and make voice calls but these days FaceTime is often how I keep contact.  I don't write as many letters as I used to but I email and send e cards.  I use zoom a lot: I was in a group chat on zoom last night and have a one-to-one with a friend this morning.  I find this to be great.

But the solitary life isn't easy for everyone.  I phone several people who really don't like alone-ness and experience it as loneliness.  I feel deeply for those who are widowed and who remember days when "alone" meant being with their husband/wife and who find really being alone to be hard.   

Living alone

 

I wouldn’t have liked to be Robinson Crusoe.  I like my own company but I’d prefer to share it with a freezer full of wonderful food, a comfortable chair and a sanctuary of a bed.  Truth to tell, I think solitude is luxurious!

Alone is a neutral word, neither happy nor sad, but loneliness is horrid.  I like solitude, alone-ness freely chosen and embraced.  Many days I see no-one, but I have up to two regular phone calls so I am not totally alone.

I talk to myself quite a lot because I get the best answers from myself.  I don’t want to argue with anyone and when I am alone there is little danger of that.  I can do what I want when I want: I had two lovely snoozes yesterday and spent a couple of happy hours listening to Radio 4 podcasts whilst I crocheted. 

My diet is, to put it bluntly, idiosyncratic.  All I fancied for breakfast was a toasted cheese and chutney sandwich and I enjoyed it so much I had the same again for lunch.  And both went down well with a P G Wodehouse short story (audiobook).

I live in a state of chaos.  Honestly.  I’m very untidy and the cleaner’s main function is to spur me on to make the place moderately tidy.  She comes once a fortnight so I can still have twelve days of chaos between visits.

If anyone phones to say they’re on the way I have a well-rehearsed dash-and-stash routine but it may take me a while to find the bed before I retire.  That’s OK: I enjoy visits from friends: happy to see them come and happy to see them go. 

Anybody else like their own company best?