So, I have the apartment to myself for the whole weekend. I know, this massive apartment, so much space, so empty, what ever am I going to do? Okay, I'm kidding, obviously. Marc going home for the weekend is the equivalent of one shoe being removed from a shoebox. As in, yes, I'm alone but it's still a shoebox.
On the plus side, this means I can do retarded things. Like right now, I am eating a a hot cheese and pepperoni sandwich. Yup. It's good. And for lunch, I got to eat all of the leftovers in the fridge, even though as a meal, all those leftovers didn't make coherent sense. But it doesn't matter, because as long as I'm happy, it's fine! And I can listen to whatever music I want to. Dance around to ABBA? Yes, please. Blast some Enrique Iglesias? Oh, you know it. And now I'm drinking sangria mixed with Sprite and lemon juice, another thing I would only do by myself. I mean, in all social honesty, sangria is already basically made of extra fruit and wine. You shouldn't really be adding anything else to it. But I happen to really enjoy my sangria when it's mixed with Sprite, and since I'm all alone, I can do whatever I want! Whoo.
Oh, and my alone time doesn't stop there. I even went so far as to go splurge on a face mask and nail polish today so I can have a proper spa evening. In preparation for this evening, I bought a bottle of Beaujolais Nouveau (a limited edition French wine that comes out once a year) and downloaded some Grey's Anatomy episodes. Now, I've never watched Grey's Anatomy. Shocking, yes? I mean, from what I hear, the show has everything that I need: beautiful people, doctors, and beautiful people that also happen to be doctors. So what better time to start becoming addicted to it than with my face mask and beaujolais?
On a different note, I have spent the last 3 weeks convinced that today was Thanksgiving. Then today, my lovely sister informs me that Thanksgiving is, in fact, next week. Yes. I found out about my mistake after I had already started making myself bread pudding for breakfast to celebrate the holiday. Oh well, I guess that means I'll just be having more bread pudding in a week! Can't have too much bread pudding.
I could probably expound the brilliance of my alone time some more, but I know that I am only enjoying it because it won't last forever. I can enjoy it because it is finite. If there was no end to my alone time in sight, then I would be a pretty sad bear. But Marc will be back on Sunday, and then the wave of visitors will be continuous until I go back home.
Oh, I can't wait for Christmas. Maybe it is the American (although I am a pretty terrible American, mixing up the dates for Thanksgiving and all) in me, but the holiday season has already begun. It appeals to the side of me that loves taking care of people. Christmas means I can bake cookies and buy presents and cook big dinners. I love it.
Alright, Grey's Anatomy calls, as does my nail polish and henna. Did I not mention the henna before? Oh yes, I have henna. I could paint my nails and tattoo myself all night if I wanted.
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