I love my husband. We’ve weathered a lot of adventures together, including this recent pandemic. In spite of that, or maybe because of it, I enjoy the rare moments when I have the house to myself.

Early on in lockdown, I was still going in to one part time job, he was working from home. In a complete switch from what we were used to, I went from having several hours at home to myself between jobs every day, to having no time to myself. It got to where I looked forward to when Dean went to the grocery store so that I could just bask in the silence and space around me.

And there was a part of me that felt guilty about it. Dean never seemed to need or want time away from me. (It is possible that I’m out of the house for long runs or walks enough that he doesn’t need to ask for it.) But we’ve always been vastly different in our energetic expenditures. The best example I can think of is when I encouraged Dean to live on his own when the opportunity arose, and he disliked it so much that he sublet the apartment after seven months to move in with two friends. I on the other hand, lived alone quite happily for many years. (Well, Jake the cat was there too.)

With our recent job changes, I now work from home full time (aside from teaching morning classes at a fitness club four days a week). Dean works from home two days a week and is on site the rest of the week. However, since normal life hasn’t completely resumed yet, all of our vacations revolve around visiting family, our weekends are still spent mostly alone with each other, etc. I’m not complaining, this is how it’s been for a while. Even before the pandemic, we weren’t settled enough financially to go out much, so this has been our norm for a few years now.

For reasons that I won’t get into right now, we weren’t able to spend much time with Dean’s family over Thanksgiving. I knew he was disappointed, so I suggested that maybe he could take a trip out there on his own in January. It’s less complicated traveling without the cats. He decided to time the trip with his mom’s birthday to surprise her, so he flew out on New Year’s Eve and I’ve had the entire house to myself this week. Like I said, I love my husband.

But this has been glorious.

I forgot how stimulating being alone is. When you don’t have the distraction of another person, your mind can wander in interesting ways. An idea for a new story hit me on New Year’s Day and I started writing it. I’m already 20,000 words in. Other than work and working out, I’ve been writing constantly. I don’t know where the inspiration is coming from, but I’m enjoying that it’s there. I turn all the lights on when I get up in the morning and play my music in the shower as loud as I want.

And I’m messy.

There’s been laundry in the living room chair for days. I’m totally out of running socks. Because it’s mostly my stuff, and because I don’t have to worry that I’m encouraging another person to add to the mess, I’m really okay with it. (It’s also probably due to the fact that I’m obsessed with writing this story.) Today, when I got around to it, I picked up. And because it was all my mess, I knew exactly where it was supposed to go and it took less time. I forgot what that’s like.

Today it’s snowing in Nashville. It started at 8am and is still going. No one will be going out. The classes I normally teach tomorrow are canceled. I’ll be staying in all night and all day tomorrow. Just me and the cats. I’m so excited. Maybe I’ll even take the kitties out in the snow.

Aang, boldly going where few cats have willingly gone before.

In Chicago things never shut down when it snowed. Here, I enjoy that quiet, muted atmosphere the snow creates when it soundproofs the world. No plows. No salt trucks. Just a big, chilly white blanket.

Dean will return this weekend, and I’m looking forward to seeing him. We’ll have a lot to tell each other. New stories to swap. Different experiences to show each other. But for tonight, I’m looking forward to enjoying the silence for just a bit longer.

Enjoy the Silence