My Newest Fantasy
Lately, whenever I have a chance to daydream, I keep coming back to a fantasy about the same thing - a few hours (or if I dare to imagine it, even a whole day) of being HOME ALONE. I go back and forth in my daydream trying to decide exactly what I would do. Sit on the couch with a cup of tea and read a book? Make myself a sandwich and then sit in my kitchen and take my time eating it? Organize my closet? Take a bath and actually shave my legs? Make a phone call to a friend? Maybe, more than one of the above? In most of these daydreams, I actually even make time to scrub the floors on my hands and knees like I used to do pre-baby, and wipe the kitchen counters until they glisten, and then walk around in my fuzzy sucks and breathe in the smell of clean. After a few weeks of this recurring daydream, I finally paused to notice where this desire is coming from - I have not been home alone (AT ALL, not even for 10 minutes) in the seven and a half months since my daughter was born. I have time away from the baby (in fact, my job keeps me away from her more than I would like) but that time is spent exclusively at work. Whenever I am not at work, I am taking care of the baby. Even housework gets done with baby on hip, or on tiptoe while she is sleeping. And even on the very few of occasions that I have taken a break (my husband and I have gone to see one movie and have gone out exactly three times for coffee alone since our daughter was born) my husband was there (not that I don't love being with him) and I was NOT at home. This is not to say that I don't absolutely adore my time with my family, but I am seriously missing just a small dose of "me-time". For six years before I got married I lived alone, no roomates, no family, no significant other. And while being surrounded by my family is so much more rewarding and fulfilling, I do miss the pure loveliness of being alone in my own space at least for just an afternoon.