Very, Very Early, or, Notes on Living Alone

Like last Saturday, this saturday I woke up early. Only earlier. 7:00 am, this time. And could not go back to sleep.

I don't remember this ability to wake up early from the last time I lived alone--but I barely remember anything about the last time I lived alone. It's a mishmash of gorgeous hikes in more gorgeous weather, knocks on my door at all hours that preceded yet another complaint that I was making too much noise, doggy day care as I was traveling for my Bob, fighting with TheBoy, and eating. Compulsively. (The gorgeous hikes were both a reason to spend as much time as possible out of the apartment, and a way to burn off the calories I was ingesting because of the stress of living in that apartment.)

The weeks I have spent in THIS apartment, however, have been some of the best of my life, and I say that about a time period in which I broke up with a boy (one of them) and got arrested. I was terrified about living alone--I'll admit it. I was scared it would be like the last time, or even the time before, in which Titan and I lived in a beautiful studio and I was depressed as hell.

But it hasn't been. I see now what everyone is talking about when they say everyone needs to live alone. Everyone needs to live alone, even if they hate it at first. It took me three tries to find the right combination of neighborhood, apartment, and neighbors. From me to you, if you hate living alone, I say: stick with it! Try and try again, and when you are successful, you will discover how much you enjoy your own company, and you will never be lonely again.

Now that I have the strength of my convictions, I made what may turn out to be the worst decision of my life just a few hours ago, and I don't care. I got a call from a lawyer, whom I had called yesterday, and within a few minutes on the phone I knew he wouldn't be the lawyer for me. He talked...very...uh, uh...slowly...and he called me...from...his vacation...while...talking...to his, uh, uh,...little boy. And he talked. And talked. And TALKED. 37 minutes later he was STILL talking. He took long side trips to tell me about his 30-year-career, his kids, how his littlest was definitely going to law school (because he comes from a chain of lawyers. duh.) And halfway through I thought, This man represents everything that I hate about the patriarchy. Because of that he may be a better choice to help me win my case. But I simply cannot give my money to him without a part of me dying. I hate him and all of his ilk. I cannot support him and would rather die on the barricades.

Vive la revolution.