solitary sunday, dog, alone, bed, cosy, wrapped in blanket

When me-time goes wonky

Sometimes we plan to treat ourselves to a totally solitary Sunday. One day where we will not let the world in. Where we will wrap up and bask in the silence and the peace and the intensely relaxing feeling that only being utterly alone can bring. Alone. All alone. All day. Perhaps all weekend…

  1. The fridge starts making a beeping sound and you are hugely grateful that someone is talking to you.
  2. A PPI cold call comes through and you chat merrily away with no sign of fury or resentment.
  3. You start googling the arse off every person you have every slept with. This kills a lot of time. Too much time. God you were a slut.
  4. You make lists of things you might like to cook. One day.
  5. You hear people in the street and every conversation sounds like a party you are not invited to.
  6. And you duck when the neighbours walk past your window.
  7. You spend an hour watching old videos on your phone. You may cry.
  8. You try on clothes you’ve never worn and wear them around the house to see if they work. They don’t.
  9. You have your third bath of the day.
  10. You become incredibly self-conscious and start acting like you’re being filmed.
  11. You start taking topless selfies… y’know… just in case.
  12. You get very busy with your diary; texting to make plans you will be immediately desperate to cancel.
  13. You do Face App (the sex swap one) on pictures of yourself and everyone you know.
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