So this morning I hauled my 39-year-old body out of my bed. But first, I rolled over and gave Bob the Dog an ear scratch. Then, I put on my fuzzy, non-sexy robe, thrust my feet into some slippers and shuffled off to make a caramel macchiato. I peed with the door to the bathroom open, made as much noise as I wanted, then went downstairs to listen to Cosmo radio online and return emails. There is a bit of a mess upstairs, but it is all mine.
Why do I want a boyfriend?
I know that without one, life gets a bit lonely. After all, Mama has needs. But seriously...do those needs outweigh the utter joy of answering to no man? I paint my walls whatever colour I want, with nobody telling me it is too "girly." I have microwave popcorn and diet coke for supper when I feel like it. I can pull on my yoga pants and a sweatshirt and pull my hair into a ponytail without someone going making that squooshy face at me, as he picks the ever-growing hole in the crotch of his sweats.
I know tomorrow I will feel differently. But today, I am basking in the absolute joy of freedom.
How does Bob feel about this?
ReplyDeleteBob actually really doesn't like most men, aside from his dogsitter, my dad and my brother. If he had his way, he would happily have me remain a spinster forever. Selfish beast.
ReplyDeleteTypical bloody male, eh?
ReplyDelete