John is out of the country for work for a couple of weeks - he's already been gone a week, and this marks, I believe, the longest we have been apart in the almost nine years we've been together.

It's kind of weird.

He traveled to the same, uh, continent a few years ago, when we were first married. At the time, I was such a chickenshit about being alone (we didn't even have one cat at the time, gasp!), so over the course of the 2 weeks he was gone, I had (alternately) Jamie, my sister-in-law, and my mom come and stay with me (there were only a couple of nights I was by myself). But this time around I decided to go it alone - after all, I now have three (THREE!) cats at the house with me, and all together, that's practically a human person, right?

And so I have spent a good deal of time alone over the past week, which is something new for me. I mean, I have work all day, but when I leave, it's just me. And even though I miss John a LOT, in some ways it has been nice. I've enjoyed the following over the past few days:

1. Not cooking very much

2. When I *do* cook, I don't always make a vegetable. TAKE THAT, MOM!

3. When I *did* make a vegetable, it was English peas, which John hates. Ha-ha!

4. Making weird, loud noises, just to see what it sounds like, and not having anyone there to make fun of me. Strange looks from the cats do not count.

5. Moving the oscillating fan to where it blows directly on me, so I can get nice and cold to fall asleep. John is a freaking hot water bottle in bed.

6. Not having to sneak around in the dark when I get up at 4:30 in the morning for 6 a.m. telecons. I turned the radio WAY up, just because I could.

7. Taking my very sweet time running errands after work, wandering around the aisles lazily, just because I can - who do I have to go home to?

However, there have been some totally unfun things that I've had to deal with alone.

1. Mothereffing fire ants randomly swarmed my kitchen counter, and I had to not only clean it all up myself, but it was deeply unsatisfying yelling "FUCKING ANTS! GAAAAH!" when there was no one else to hear it. Again, strange looks from the cats don't count.

2. When Wee Kitten George starts being a shithead at 3:30 in the morning, attacking feet under the covers and getting up in my grill, going MEOWMEOWMEOWMEOW, there is no one else to accidentally kick to wake them up so they can put him out and you can stay all snuggled and sleepy.

3. Dealing with the kitty cat poop box. That's long been a designated John chore.

That's really about it - I shouldn't complain. And I'm not, exactly.

It's just been...*different* being alone.

Tonight I am checking one more thing off my life list, and going to a movie alone. (I've done the restaurant thing by myself, but admittedly, it was while I was traveling alone - still, it counts.) I'm seeing Eat, Pray, Love. Yes, I know, terrible reviews, and I did not read the book, and it's not so much that I am that interested in seeing that movie, but since this is kind of an experiment anyway, why the hell not? Maybe I can make a drinking game out of it, like every time Julia throws her head back and laughs, all throaty and open-mouthed and toothy, I take a swig of beer (that is on special, $2 Shiner drafts, yay!).

Except that I have to drive myself home. Hmm...