You don't know what you've got until it's gone

The roommate is in Montreal tonight. The house is mine to myself. I forgot how much I loved living alone, even if she is an anti-social hermit.

*sigh*

Almost makes me want to sell the house and live on my own in an apartment just for my own space. Almost. Not quite though...

Apparently that's 3rd year

So, I had another B&G moment tonight. I stubbed the hell outta my baby toe. Ow...and other profanities. I thought, meh, it hurts for a while and then it goes away.

But it's not going away, it's getting worse. And it hurts to walk. And it hurts down the side of my foot like along the bone/tendon for that toe. Let me just say again - OW.

So I did what I'm sure every person in a health care position hates, I asked the resident dr. to be if she knew how to tell if it was broken. Apparently, that wasn't covered in 1st year. She's pretty convinced it's just sprained.

Hmmmm - only because it's Sunday and I don't really want to go tomorrow - think I could take the day off for this? hmmmm...

The New Roommate

I realized today that I have yet to blog about the new roommate even though she's been living in my house for the last 4.5 days. I think mostly, besides being really super busy this last week, that I wanted to let her grow on me before I rant and rave...yeah, that's not going to happen.

So, I knew that this would be a difficult thing for me - taking on someone living in my space after almost 8 months of blissful solitude. Yes, it was blissful. Moments of sadness and loneliness but nonetheless, blissfully enjoyable. I got to rise and shine as I pleased, come and go as I wish and not worry about doing dishes right away. These past 4 days I've tried to walk on eggshells to make her feel comfortable but she said to me today three words I will try and live by (okay, technically it's 4 but one's a contraction - there, that grammatic insight makes up for the rest of my grammar and spelling errors from this point on in this blog).

It's my house.

That's right, it's my house. Granted, she stops around like an elephant at 6:30 in the morning on the weekend and she's neurotic about her personal stuff - did I mention that she won't even leave her laundry soap in the laundry room or dish washing sponge beside the sink? But it's my house. And if I choose to have a dirty 30 birthday party (which save the date now for people!), it's my house. And if I need her to get up at 7 am to move her car because she won't do herself the courtesy and leave the keys by the door for me to move it for her, it's my house. These are the rules, this is the contract.

Overall, she's incredibly neat, quite quiet (except for walking like an elephant and slamming around upstairs at 6:30 am - can you tell my hangover this am didn't appreciate it?), and keeps to herself. It could be worse, right?

Still, I'm having a hard time adjusting to the idea that someone else is in the house. The noises that are made are mostly what I have a hard time with. For months I've listened intently thinking that an axe murderer is in the house while I'm watching tv in the basement or the inevitable nocturnal bumps keep me awake but now that there's someone else here, I really didn't realize just how much I like peace and quiet.

This leaves me with the bigger pondering that I'll throw out to the cosmic void...how hard will it be for me to adjust to living with another mate, should life lead me on that path?