I am still in the process of unpacking and washing a bunch of stuff like duvet covers, curtains, etc. My room is still a bit of a mess, and after basically ransacking it yesterday looking for my passport (which turns out, my dad kept safe THIS WHOLE TIME), I went out for lunch by myself.
As you all know, I like the ‘by myself’ time. It’s fun alarming people a little when you’re on your own. Two weeks ago, I watched two movies more or less, back to back, because I wanted to avoid life, and each time I went up to the counter to purchase my ticket, the person taking my ‘order’ just went ‘ONE ticket?’. It’s not that difficult to comprehend that sometimes, people do things ALONE.
Today at lunch, the waiter just stared at me, wondering if he should ask if it was a table for one or table for more people. I could see the confusion on his face. I sat alone at a corner booth, took the menu graciously and ordered my food.
I wasn’t the only ‘alone’ person there. There as this old man, maybe in his 60s, sitting at his own booth reading the newspaper. The other three occupied tables were families.
I wander around malls alone. I need time to contemplate for the millioneth time whether or not I dare get a haircut. I pop in and out of bookstores, somehow hoping that a book would call from the shelves. I go into drugstores/pharmacies to play with swatches of lipstick that I will never buy.
I do alone well. I do alone frequently. Sometimes it gets boring, but other times, it’s what I need.
I am waiting for the fourth batch of laundry to be done so I can hang it up to dry before going back up to fix my room. Yay for being responsible.