It sucks and I love it.
It’s Saturday night and I am still in my pj’s. The thought of leaving my house seems as daunting as trying to cure cancer. I peruse the internet for a fast food joint that will be my bitch and bring my food to me. Looking at the menu is my version of eHarmony. There are so many options but I know that none of them will end up being as satisfying as if I just put on some damn pants and went to an actual nice restaurant. Alas, I’m hungry and enjoy the fact that I don’t have to shower or put on any respectable clothing to give my stomach what it wants. I place the order and shortly after my phone rings. It’s the restaurant. Unfortunately, they are out of popcorn chicken (which was going to be the high light of my order). The girl on the phone continues to say “Is there anything else we can substitute for you guys?” Plural. Did I really order THAT much food? Or is it because I have the voice of someone who sounds like she is in a relationship? Is there a certain tone of voice that non-single people have? Whatever the case, I change my order, put down the phone and pour myself a glass of wine. How else am I going to entertain myself while waiting for some (probably average) deep-fried food? Some more time passes, some more wine is poured and finally my food shows up. I open the door in my pj’s and an over-sized hoodie (stolen from one of my guy friends), with my hair loosely piled on top of my head and sporting yesterdays makeup. I hand over some not-so-hard -earned money and he hands me the goods. The driver flashes me a look that says “no wonder she is alone on a Saturday night, ordering enough food that is clearly meant for eating her feelings…I bet she has a lot of feelings”. The look could also mean “I hope this white chick tips me enough to grab McDonald’s at the end of my shift” but I guess I will never know for certain. This is the kind of night where it sucks being single and yet I am happy to be here by myself, out of the cold, in comfortable clothes, watching whatever I want and eating my face (and feelings) out. Of course this isn’t my Saturday every week, I do have these people in my life most refer to as friends. This is however the perfect example of reasons behind a love/hate relationship with being single.
The following are reasons why being single can be under and overrated at the same time.
I like my alone time. I am not someone who has to be constantly surrounded by others or constantly doing something. There are times when I want to be alone, with someone. I still don’t want to leave my apartment, but it would nice curl up with another warm body and be alone together.
Holidays. I don’t have to go to everything x2 and I don’t have to spend money on someone else (meaning I can treat myself which I am very fond of). On the other hand, I don’t have to go to everything x2.
Having my entire bed to myself. I am a sprawler and find it incredibly hard to share my bed with anyone and get a good night’s sleep. As gushy and Stephanie Meyer’s novel as it may sound, there is something so comfortable and comforting about being wrapped up with someone else that puts me at ease and puts me to sleep. Plus, most guys are totally down with the wake in the middle of the night and separate to get a full night’s sleep. Truthfully, I enjoy the cuddling to get tired and then retiring to different houses to get the actual sleep. I know guys have it in their heads that girls always want guys to stay the night but personally, I like the togetherness to help me settle and get tired and the separation to do the actual sleeping. Believe it or not boys, once in the serious sleep mode, actually getting that sleep trumps being in bed with you.
When couples fight I thank God/the stars/buddha/ Tom Cruise that I can go home to my drama-free apartment at the end of the night, make love to my boyfriend Kraft Dinner and jump into my very unoccupied bed. Sometimes, I miss getting into arguments and being passionate with and about someone.
No one telling me that I am being a bitch, overreacting or wrong. No one telling me that I am beautiful, awesome or right (not anyone who means it in a particular way at least).
Watching whatever the hell I want and not feeling guilty for it. Watching anything really funny or interesting and having no one to laugh or discuss it with.
Coming home after a long day at work to an empty apartment, stripping down to my underwear (and a hoodie depending on the season) and dancing around while making dinner. Coming home after a long day at work to an empty apartment, having no one appreciate the fact that I am in nothing but my underwear (and possibly a hoodie) and having to make dinner for and by myself.
Like most things, the grass is always greener…I just wish delivery guys would stop being so judgemental. I’m going to tip you enough to super-size your meal.