It is good that man should be alone

NOTE: Mom, don’t worry. I’m talking about my living situation, not my philosophy on marriage.

So for those of you (all three of you that read this blog, that is) who don’t know, I now live in Seattle. It’s a lovely place and I have enjoyed the month and three days that I have been here very much. People are generally nice and the weather is generally good, although I know that will soon change. The weather, not the people that is … hopefully.

And something else that is lovely - I live alone in a one-bedroom apartment on Queen Anne. Now, when I first decided to live alone, I was somewhat hesitant. I was concerned that my pure, uninhibited natural man would take over and I would spend my nights wallowing in dirty laundry and running around in my underpants eating Oreos sloppily dipped in curdled milk. That has not happened - not yet, at least.

In fact, I am much more productive and clean than I ever was living with previous roommates. Perhaps it is because I have no one to blame my mess on. Or maybe it is because I have to prove to myself that I am all growed up. Or, mst likely, it is just because my apartment seems so new to me, and it is always easier to take care of things when they are new. Like why we love babies and not 15-year-olds.

Another concern that I had moving into an apartment alone was that I would become (more) introverted and (more) asocial. It is almost impossible to avoid human interaction when you have roommates, hard as you may try. So without that interaction natively built into my living situation, how would I cope? Would I watch Friends reruns late at night to pretend they were my own?

Well, it may be too early to tell. However, what I will say is that I want what I don’t have. That is simply how I am wired. When I have a salad for lunch, I wish I had an avocado BLT; when I have an avocado BLT, I wish I had jalapeno poppers; when I have jalapeno poppers, I wish I had a glass of milk; etc. Not just for lunch, but for life.

So when I come home to an apartment full of roommates, I only want to escape them and have some time alone. I want to isolate myself so that I can have what I don’t have - a place to call my own. But now, when I come home to an empty apartment - just me and my Craigslist couch - I want to be with people. I want to reach out and touch someone. This is very good for me, and something that I have had a hard time doing at other times in my life.

Living alone, as I have experienced it thus far, is a good thing for me. It makes me want to be with people more. And it gives me time to do other things best done privately.