I have always had roommates. Or parents. Or my landlord. Always had someone living with me, someone sharing space.
I'm not going to say it's a bad thing. It's not. But I can tell you that now that I have had a small taste of what it is like to live alone, I like it.
My new tenants just moved in over the last two days. Already they have become an irritation to me. Not because of anything specific. But I come into the kitchen, and something is moved. I go into the bathroom, and the mat that I leave on the edge of the tub is on the floor with footprints on it. There are sounds outside my room at any given moment. I am aware that they are there.
I can no longer make coffee in my underwear. I can't stroll from the bathroom to my room without being wrapped in a towel. I have to close my curtains because they could go out on the terrace at any moment and see into my room. I can't pee with the bathroom door open. I realize that most of these complaints are about not being able to be naked in some form, but for people like MC, she was already aware of my love of being pantsless or in some other degree of undress. We Skype pantsless most times.
It is not anything I cannot get over or deal with, but I am now much more aware of how much I wish I could still live alone. Never worrying if someone needs the bathroom, or if your need to do laundry at 8am is going to wake someone up. All of the space in the fridge is yours, and the food you buy is still going to be there when you get home. If you run out of milk, its your own fault.
So I suppose I have some adjusting to do in the next few weeks, and some dreaming for what my next apartment will be like.
Happy day people, smile!