The Joys of Living Alone

I’ve never lived on my own before. Went from parent’s house, to the dorms, to two roommates, to one roommate, to unemployed and back in parent’s house, but now…Ah, now I’m on my own. If someone in Atlanta had wanted to employ me and give me healthcare, I’d probably be living with Sister doing nothing but TV watching and testing our limits on baked goods and goat cheese. So while this never came to be a reality, she should probably be pretty thankful, because I’ve discovered some non-too-great living habits I possess.

*I keep my shoes in a giant pile in the dining room. I come home; I kick them off; they stay there. The only time my shoes are on the shoe rack is when I have company over.

*I relentlessly and shamelessly drink straight out of the carton. It’s one less glass to clean.

*I let dishes pile up until the faucet is literally deemed useless due to the mounds of crap in its way.

*I’ll leave Target/Wal-Mart bags just sitting on the counter after a trip to the store. Because it’s too much trouble to put them in the laundry room where they belong.

*I loathe changing the kitchen trash bag. I’ll occasionally leave my trashcan unlined and just stuff my trash into one of said abandoned Target bags in lieu of acting like a grown up and breaking out the Hefty.

*I talk to my TV. I played commentator to an episode of Huge Monday night. I told about five people to not eat a bag of cookies. And no one did. I think I have magical powers.

*I never make my bed. I think it’s been made four times in the course of my living there.

*I don’t pay my bills until the last minute. It doesn’t matter if I have the money. I just like to collect them like Easter eggs until I have a nice little collection then pay them all at once. It’s less painful that way.

*I don’t wear real clothes in my apartment. I come home from work and change into pjs. Am not an advocate of the just-dropping-in guest. This is not Mayberry. Must have at least 30 minutes notice in order to mask the previously mentioned social hindrances.

*I hog the TV. There’s only enough room on the DVR for me.

*I eat like a five year-old. If I want a dinner of cereal, string cheese and canned pears, what’s it to you?

*I keep my house cold and my TV loud. It’s just the way I like it.

*I talk to my cat. Not conversations (because I’m not that far gone), but greetings and pleasantries are exchanged regularly.

And that’s just the tip of the iceberg, folks. I know I’m not alone…Am I? Eff.

New development (and sad news for me): My regular Project Runway blogger has laid her critique to its final resting place. In lieu of flowers send bacon and hoodies as condolences. And that brings me to my latest endeavor. I need a new show to critique. I miss my Bachelor snark. I wasn’t going to touch PR because who can compete with that awesomeness? But now that it’s gone…There’s a hole in my judgmental world, and I must fill that void. So, I’m gonna make Project Runway Recap a regular addition to Biddy Corner. Hope you enjoy!