Strongly Worded

Home Alone

As I grow older, and come to terms with my quirks and qualities, I've come to understand that I need to intersperse my generally busy, social life with periods of quiet and solitude. I've also come to understand that (at least my) life is characterized by the "when it rains, it pours" phenomenon. I experienced back-to-back-to-back errands and socializing before, during, and after my trip to California. Work has been busy and stressful. I've been feeling tired and overstimulated. So I responded to those feelings and planned a quiet weekend that incorporated alone time. I hosted a brunch on Saturday morning, and stayed in on Friday night caramelizing onions. I made no other plans, other than exercising and pitching in for a few hours at the local campaign office (the election primaries are on Tuesday--rock the vote!).

Sounds fine, right?

Not so much.

I listened to the radio while caramelizing onions on Friday night. And the broadcast included ads for two different dating services and some cult-ish-sounding anxiety-management program. Clearly, these services are marketed to people who are not pursuing glam plans, but are home listening to the radio--and thus likely to be single and/or anxious (and OK, I fall into both categories, so maybe they're on to something). I told myself again and again that caramelizing onions on a Friday night was a choice, that I could be out socializing but I chose to stay in. But then my nasty inner adolescent got all riled and taunted me (as it is wont to do): maybe I didn't make any plans, but nobody made plans with me. It's not like I turned down any opportunities to caramelize onions.

I'm even embarrassed to write that. What if you all read it and mutter knowingly to yourselves? Those of you who've never met me might go "oh, so she's an unloved social recluse. No wonder she has so much time to blog." I'm shuddering at the thought.

Another issue: when I deliberately opt for quiet time, I often ricochet around from activity to activity, frenzied. The options become overwhelming. I could take a walk! I could go to the gym! I could paint the ugly brown hood of my stove! I could watch a movie! I could straighten up the mess in my enormous hall closet! Too often, I choose none of these options and end up in front of the TV channel surfing and then my nasty inner taskmaster taunts me: are you going to waste what's left of your 20s flipping between a poorly censored version of Cruel Intentions and repeats of Project Runway that aired just last week? This is the last 9/15/06 that you're ever going to get. Is this how you're choosing to spend it?

Of course, eventually these feelings pass. Because at some point I realize that the weekend is more than half over, and then it's time to start agonizing about work.

Posted by Dori at 10:01 AM