So here I sit...alone...trying to complete a list of seven things that I truly prefer to do alone. Beyond the obvious. Being an only child complicates this. Most of my life I have desired and sought out companionship. On the other hand after so much time alone, I feel quite comfortable with it. Prefer it? No. Apathetically accepting? Probably. I'm pretty much tired of trying or hoping for anything different. So, I could write a gigantic list of things that I would love to share with someone else, things that I now do alone, but that isn't the task, is it?
- Painting (as in art). My little studio is set up in my dad's side of the workshop, far from the stairs. I desire only music while painting.
- Playing the piano. I can't play with an audience - usually. And don't try to sing along, it'll screw me up. When I lived in FL, I would practice sometimes a couple hours each day. If I caught a glimpse of the mailman heading up our walk I'd make a mistake - just because I knew he could hear me playing. Once, though, I did manage to sit and play ragtime on a piano that was being auctioned at a local church as potential bidders filed in and out of the building for over an hour.
- Shopping (as in clothes). 'A' will barely spare me the time amid shopping for herself. Mom is always commenting when she shouldn't. My first husband used to follow a couple steps behind all the time - extremely annoying. Although I rarely have opportunity, let me shop by myself.
- Reading. Sharing newspaper stories with another is pleasant, but don't interrupt a good book. I can sit and read while watching the TV. Actually, that's sort of my norm. Not much of interest on the tube anyway. Even when there is a good show, I'll read during the ads. Having another person around while reading a good book is, well, irrelevant to me.
- Writing. I can collaborate and have. When it's me and the words, I need peace and quiet. You can hang out and comment and offer constructive criticism when asked - later. I appreciate the comments. I also like a proofreader.
- Floating. Yep, you read it correctly. I don't get to float anymore, but I can easily recall the sensation. During summers in Florida, I would force myself to take 1 hour lunch breaks. I would drive to the pool at the park where my parents wintered. Not a soul around, the pool to myself, I'd take 45 minutes and just float on a inflatable raft. Lovely.
- Crying. I'm a private crier. Yeah, there have been times in my life when I've shed tears more publicly. I'm not comfortable with that. I cry alone.
There you have it.