Okay, people. The first three days were FUN! The next two, I got some things done I'd woefully been putting off. When the time surpassed a week with out my family, I started to get disoriented and found myself babbling incoherently to the Lean Mean Grillin' Machine®.
A few friends I've seen or spoken too keep reminding me how "heavenly" time alone seems to them. What would you do? I inquire. Because as we all I know, even when it comes to time alone, I want some reassurance that I AM doing it okay or right or good enough. I'd prefer stellar, but I'm not going to push my luck.
When I ask them and they think about it, everyone comes to the conclusion that ELEVEN days is way too long. But they babble about cleaning out kids' closest, eating sushi and going to the movies. Check. Check. And check.
Let's recap all the things I've done:
Went to the gym ALMOST every day.
Went to see Sex And The City and Then She Found Me.
Rented Fool's Gold, Atonement, Kinsey, and The Amateaurs. (Have I ever told you about how I used to go to the movies at least 3x a week?)
Woke up early. Went to bed very late.
Met friend w/o kids at Pub. Sat outside. Ordered fancy summer drink called The Bee's Knees. Spat. Made face. Ordered Light Beer.
Met same friend w/ other single friends at a loud bar. More Light Beer.
Hosted a wine tasting/book swap party at my house on Thursday night. Huge success. The wine part more than the book part.
Crashed a party for 7 year olds 'cause I knew my mommy friends would be there. Brought hostess gift.
Read (in 2 days) all of James Frey's new novel Bright Shiny Morning. Loved it. Except now I'm a wee bit afraid of LA.
Got disgustingly sunburned whilst reading said book at the Eagles Club - affectionately known as the low rent Country Club. More Light Beer.
That just about brings us up to this very moment. I've got plans tonight, tomorrow and even before I pick everyone up at the airport on Wednesday. So it is smooth sailing from here on out. Whew!