Flying Solo

Aside from staying in hotels, this is the first time in 26 years I’ve actually been on my own. The first day it felt empty and weird without John, but now I’m getting used to it.
I was under the illusion I would get a lot more done without having someone else around to consider, but it really hasn’t made any difference. John is basically a low maintenance kind of guy and I’ve discovered that I’m a creature of habit.
My friend Joy asked me tonight if I’d eaten a bowl of Shreddies over the sink like she does when her husband is away. But no. I cooked myself a nice pasta dinner and gave Lily a bowl too. Then we watched Dancing with the Stars. Well, I watched and she snored.
Afterwards, I sat around and thought about numbers I like. Seven is supposedly my lucky one, but I’ve always liked sixty. In case you think the isolation is turning me into an eccentric, I was born that way. I’m always ruminating about unimportant things, and since John isn’t around to listen to me, there’s always you, dear reader.