I might be better of writing about things I prefer to NOT do alone. Like exercise (I realized why–seriously–just the other day–when a friend told me the reason she is never home is because she does not want to be left alone with her thoughts for fear she may spiral.) And cook. (I realized–seriously–just the other day–as I was dreaming about how I would remodel my upstairs–that while I love to have people over for dinner, what I don’t love is how my current kitchen isolates me and leaves me [generally] alone in the kitchen while everyone socializes in the living room.) And clean the house (No deep reasons here. Mostly because it’s easier and more effective with help.) Although, to be honest, I don’t mind being alone in a clean house for at least a few hours after it’s clean so I can enjoy the few minutes where it stays clean. I don’t like going to church alone. Especially on holidays. Or Mother’s Day. I’m very good about not sitting alone. I have a few people who are happy to make room for me on their bench and if they’re not there, I don’t hesitate to look for someone else who may be sitting alone. But not. I’d prefer to not go to church without my family.
But let me see if I can stretch.
I think I can get to things I don’t mind doing alone.
I don’t mind driving alone. This is something I learned about myself when I started to travel a little bit for work. I don’t mind being able to stop where I want to stop and take the scenic route if I want to take the scenic route. And I don’t mind being able to listen to whatever I want to listen to and to turn it up loud and to belt out my favorite songs like no one is listening. Because truly they aren’t. Nor do I mind Sunday mornings alone when my husband is in meetings and my other kids are sleeping. I like a quiet morning. A non-rushed, quiet morning.
Things I prefer to do alone?
Nope. I’m not there yet.
[Day 128 of Ann Dee Ellis’ 8-Minute Memoir.]