Quiet Time

I'm sitting here. On my couch (read: futon). Watching an intellectual documentary (read: Kardashians). Bettering myself as a person (read: doing my nails - you know what this is). I'm alone. The man is out. The roommate is out. It's kinda weird.

Honestly I hate alone time. I don't know what do to, there's no one to talk to which means I have to talk to myself because, naturally, I can't not talk.

I know plenty of people who love having some peace and quiet. I envy that because it seems really nice. I would love to curl up with a book and a blanket, passing an evening with my cats or something. But I have the attention span of a three-year-old and a nasty kitty allergy. So what am I to do?

Having lived alone for more than a year and now cohabitating, I absolutely dread having the house to myself. There are so many possibilities, so many options... and there's the interwebs, where I usually end up, creating outfits I don't have on Pinterest and reading about the crafty DIYers I'll never compare to. But is that so bad? Sometimes it's nice to turn your mind off, right?

Personally I chalk a lot of my restlessness during what should be my time of rest and relaxation to my age. I don't have homework and haven't for years, of course. Not at the homeowner stage yet (and likely to never get there. Let's face it, I'm broke), I find there's only so much to clean, only so much to organize, and, frankly, I hate doing both of those things.

So help me out – what does everybody else do on those quiet nights at home? Pjs and a movie? Polishing off “War and Peace?” Seriously, why is it so hard to find a hobby? 

See? I wasn't kidding about that. It's bad.