Sometimes I’m Like Greta Garbo

I’m an only child, and sometimes I just really like to be alone. I lived alone for a few years, and mostly, I liked it. Lord Kissington and I attribute the success of our relationship to the fact that although both of us really like being alone, we can actually stand each other’s company on a permanent basis. Still, sometimes I need some time to myself, and the occasional evening when LK is off doing whatever, I really enjoy being able to watch dopey movies like Charlie’s Angels and reveling in my aloneness.

Although my solo trip to Austin this spring wasn’t very exciting in terms of getting to do much in the city, I did have an excellent time because I had a huge hotel room all to myself, I was able to spread my toiletries all over the very comfortable bathroom, and the kind size bed was lovely even though I had insomnia. Yes, being awake at 5 a.m. unable to sleep sucks, but when you’re in a comfy king size bed propped up on about 18 pillows and watching reruns of Angel and Charmed, it seems that much more bearable*.

So, when LK mentioned last week that he had a fantasy football draft on Sunday and would be gone for most of the day, I ran around the living room screaming, “Whee.”

I had really big plans for the day. I’m trying to fix up my closet, getting rid of stuff I don’t wear, finding a way to deal with all the shoes, and organizing my wardrobe in preparation for the new job. I have a zillion papers to go through and file. And I wanted start watching one of my birthday gifts, Season 1 of Charmed. (I figured I could accomplish the first two while having the third on in the background.)

Then LK informed me that the draft might not be happening. “But you promised,” I wailed. Then a few hours later, the draft was suddenly back on, and I heaved a sigh of relief. He left around noon on Sunday, and I began my big day.

Then my mother called. She had just returned from an ill-advised trip with my Alzheimer’s- and osteoporosis-ridden grandmother. Once a year, she takes my grandmother to her old apartment in New York City. Once my grandmother gets there, she doesn’t want to leave, and there’s always an unpleasant scene when it’s time to come home**. Anyway, I was feeling bad for my mother, so when she asked if I wanted to go to brunch, I said sure. I mean, how long can brunch take, I thought to myself in a fit of optimism.

I had forgotten how long everything takes with my mother. You could blame it on everything being slower because of my ever-shrinking grandmother, but even before she was in the picture, everything with my mother took forever. A trip to the store that would take most people 30 minutes is like 90 minutes for her. I left my place around 1:30. I got back home at 6. As I walked in the door, the phone was ringing. It was LK, telling me that he was on his way home. And just like that, my entire day had evaporated. I’m totes bitter.

*Some people get excited about the music and food in Austin. Me, I get excited about being able to watch the Angel episode where Lindsey gets his evil hand at 5 a.m. We all have our small pleasures.
**As you can imagine, pretty much everyone in my mother’s life thinks these trips are a bad idea.