Things You Say When You Live Alone

I’ve never lived with a roommate. I went straight from living with my folks to my own apartment in Toronto’s west end when I was 23. There was a dude around for a few years, but I wouldn’t let him move in. My apartment is tiny and I don’t think couples should share a space that is so small you are constantly in each other’s line of sight and can always hear when the other is peeing.

I love living alone. It`s quiet. You can vacuum in the nude. No one can see how often you clean your remote control with a Q-Tip and Windex. It can get a little lonely, though, and I am casually contemplating moving into a bigger place and getting a roommate at some point. But for now I’m very content living on my own.

The flip side to living alone is that one can develop some…eccentricities. Perhaps you’ve seen this?

I catch myself belting out Springsteen while washing dishes, or marathoning The O.C. wearing nothing but knee socks and moisturizing gloves. And then there’s the weird shit I say out loud. I caught myself doing it the other day and decided to start keeping track. Here’s a sampling of the crazy:

“Wow, there are a lot of wine glasses in the sink, and no one’s been over for days.”

“Thank god I live alone. If there was anyone around to witness how many Hot Pockets I just ate I think they’d feel a moral obligation to stage an intervention.”

“All I have to show for the last two days is an empty box of Special K Red Berries cereal and a finished Mad Men Season 1 DVD.”

“I wonder if someone would pay me to recite every episode of Seinfeld into their mouth?”

“I’m worried that if I watch Sex and the City season 4 one more time it’s going to go on strike.”

So tell me, do you have any weird solo living habits?


2 thoughts on “Things You Say When You Live Alone

  1. C. says:

    try having a pet, I catch myself talking to booboo as if it was a human being. That, in the past, has caused boyfriends to permanently loose their capacity to “erect”.
    I don’t do that anymore (of course I do).


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