It’s My Birthday and I’ll Gloat if I Want To

I think I’m finally getting used to living alone.  Gloating may not be the right word, but I don’t think celebrating is correct, either.  It’s an odd thing, living alone.  Sometimes I want to gloat; sometimes I feel guilty.  Women aren’t supposed to have things for themselves.  We do everything for someone else, from how we look to what food we buy to what house we pick to live in.

Having 1,000 square feet to myself is naughty.  Selfish.  Extravagant.  But heck, today is my birthday, and if you can’t be selfish and extravagant on your own birthday, when can you be?  For today, I will revel in being alone and having the house all to myself.

Today I will gloat about all of the following:

  • I can come and go as I please since for the first time in my freaking life I don’t have a curfew (yes, moms have curfews; they’re called “kids”)
  • stuff the freezer full of whatever I want
  • use my good towels without fear of bleach or hair dye staining them
  • take a bath at night without having to clean out the tub first
  • put my own blow dryer in the bathroom
  • sing along with musicals
  • sing stupid songs to the dog
  • leave the clean laundry in the basket ‘cause no one else needs to use it (the basket, that is, although I don’t think anyone else uses my laundry)
  • hog the bathroom to my heart’s content
  • play the same song over and over again till I’ve learned it, like I do when I’m alone in my car
  • turn on the lights at night when I can’t sleep without worrying about waking anyone else
  • scream as loud as I want when I’m in pain (a bonus when you have a chronic illness; we tend to hide the extent of our illness from others)
  • I don’t have to fight my way through anyone else’s mess – except for the dog’s obsession with chewing up napkins and Kleenex
  • leave library books on the coffee table
  • stay out late (haha, who am I kidding?)
  • not have to deal with perfumes or hair spray or any other strong odors (aside from the dog)
  • go where I want when I want, without having to wait on anyone else to wake up/get ready
  • eat as many of the Pillsbury Gluten-Gree Chocolate Chip cookies I made for my birthday and not have to save any for anyone else.

53 bday

So here’s the Pillsbury Gluten-Free Chocolate Chip Cookie I made – for myself – for my birthday.  Lots of chocolate frosting.  Doesn’t it look yummy?  Wouldn’t you like a bite?

Well, you can’t have one.  It’s mine.  So there.

eat-all-the-cookies

 

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