Living alone certainly has its advantages--from not having to keep panty liners hidden away in a bathroom cabinet to not offending anyone but yourself after eating French onion soup-- but it has its drawbacks as well. I was reminded of that over the past few days when I was feeling under the weather. I do get migraines, but I don't get sick very often, so I suppose I was due. I was miserable. And I was on my own.
There was no one to make me a hot toddy or to run to the store for cough medicine. When I ran out of Kleenex I used my purse packs. I didn't feel like cooking so I didn't eat (now you know I'm not feeling well when I skip bacon and eggs on a Sunday morning!); no one offered to make something for me or run out for takeout. I took the trash out when it was full and I cleaned the toilets because they were dirty. And I unloaded the dishwasher.
I know none of that is extraordinary. And I guess that's my point here. I think singletons like me get a bad rap sometimes, as if we live in reckless abandon: a responsibility-free, glamorous life. But the truth is, like most other adults, we have to power through colds and flus and stomach bugs too. And there's nothing glamorous about phlegm. Ever.