Stretch of Solitude: Conclusion

After driving through to Glentana to pick Caroline up, we’re sitting in mom’s lounge debating the life-long question of new pots vs. a dishwasher… Which would be better??

So, the hypothetical options are as follows:

Either we could have new pots to cook in, even though we already have pots that we regularly cook in. Apparently nice pots are real nice to cook in… ok.


Never having to wash dishes again! Just pack up the dishwasher, go do something else for a while, then unpack it later on. No standing there scrubbing and wiping and washing and rinsing and stacking and scrubbing and wiping and washing and rinsing and stacking and and and…. for ages!

…or pots.

Extending your free time by literal hours each week! …or pots.

Naturally, Caroline and mother agree that the pots win. Geepers. I wonder who does more dishes than both of them combined… could it be the one choosing the dishwasher?

Dishwasher FTW!

Ok, ok. On to what you are clearly here for.
My last morning alone at home was spent playing Broforce (without a bro), eating Future Life, and actually doing a bit of work. Not an awful lot of work (because of perfectly valid reasons that are very good), but work nonetheless.

What my months and months on my lonesome has taught me:

I like being alone (big surprise, I know!). I get to do little, and wear even less. The amount of dishes to be done is minute compared to usual. I get more beer, and I get all the popcorn. The couches stay clear of bags and clothing, and the floor stays clear of little rolled up toilet paper spikes.
On the other hand, all I ate was noodles, and Future Life… and I had to make it all myself! I even had to make all the tea. I had to go be social all on my lonesome, and I didn’t have a drinking buddy ever. The worst part is that each night my pillow would get soaked from all my tearful sobbing. Sleeping with wet pillows isn’t as great as it sounds, and all the salt has completely wrecked my skin!

It also made me realise how few people I speak to regularly (besides Caroline, obviously). I could probably count them on one hand. And the amount of people I have actual conversations with (again, besides Caroline), is even less. I may not have many friends, or even many people with whom I speak, but I do have the Caroline, which means I drew the longest straw there was to draw. Even if it does mean more dishes, piles of clothes on the couches, and rolled up toilet paper spikes everywhere.

My plans for the rest of the day include buying batteries for my camera, eating salted chips (I need to replenish my bodies salt supplies, after all), and hiding Caroline’s tablet away so that she’ll give me some attention.

Time to go home to sherry and a large chunk of pork.


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