Solitude

Nadine has a hot tub.

She conveniently turns it on when she knows I’m coming over because:

  1. She knows I can’t resist a nice hot tub and
  2. She knows I ESPECIALLY can’t resist a CLOTHING-OPTIONAL hot tub

I always climb in to soak but before you can give two shakes of a dog’s tail, I’m out again.

Why?

Because hot tubbing alone is no fun.

I’m left to my own thoughts which invariably turn into a jumble of feelings, not always pleasant.

Nadine has a theory that I’m uncomfortable with being by myself.

And this may be true.

I’m always surrounded by people.

I was raised with the equivalent of a twin sister.

We were ALWAYS together growing up.

I got married at twenty two and moved in with my spouse.

I had kids at twenty five and you know they were the Velcro babies everyone talks about.

I couldn’t shower or use the bathroom without being interrupted.

So if I’m not accustomed to being by myself, it’s because I’ve grown into a very social creature.

I’ve always loved people, especially the ones I’m surrounded by.

And if I’m not good at being by myself, if that’s the worst thing about me, then I’m not doing too bad.

 

NOTE:  Please excuse the clove cigarette.  I was young and stupid.  Smoking is bad for you.  Don’t do it.