Saturday, October 27, 2007

It's just me in these headphones... I can listen to whatever music I want.

Yeah, this is one hell of a life, this sentence of solitary confinement I'm serving. I'm free, baby, and don't you forget it.

Don't have to worry about feeding any mouths but my own, and I'm none too picky food-wise. Laundry and dishes? They can wait. Floors need mopping? Maybe tomorrow; mine are the only feet that walk on 'em.

No wife to care for, no kids bugging me to turn on the TV, take them somewhere or pay attention to them. Don't have to share the bathroom, and I can sleep on any damn part of the bed I want.

If I decide to crack open a bottle of single-malt, there's no one to get on me if I have a drink or three too many, or make fun of me if I wake up with a headache*.

Freedom, oh yeah!

I mean, I'd have to work harder to make sure everyone in the house was secure. I'd probably be in a place where I had to do yard work, too, and maybe fix-up stuff around the pad. I'd have to soothe sad people, do what I could do to make their lives as happy and comfortable as possible. I'd have to learn, have to teach, have to be responsible.

I couldn't give myself a pass when I don't do what I should, couldn't make excuses for me when I get lazy. I couldn't tell that miserable sonofabitch in the mirror he's a pretty damn fine guy, even when he hasn't done anything to earn it.

Don't even have to cover my mouth when I sneeze. If I don't shower 'til noon or dress in yesterday's duds, who's to complain?

I can hit the town any time I want, too, buckaroos. If I feel like heading up to The Spot, the Indian Room or June's Place to chug cheap beer with the other burnouts, well, it's right up the street. Twenty blocks, maybe. Wouldn't take a woman with any discernible class to those places...and of course not the kiddies.

Don't have to commit myself. No one to say "I love you" to, and no need to demonstrate love in any way. That can be hard work.

Yesseirree, I got it all. Freedom! No responsibility!

And if my wonderful life of freedom goes on much longer, I'm going to just walk my ass right over the bluffs and become fish food, Jim.

Guess I'm just having too much fun in solitary....

* I'm not doing that these days anyway, but hey, I could if I wanted to!


sugarcane said...

Believe me, after 20 years of kids in the house, you actually welcome the solitude every so often.

...but I get where you're coming from.

MrScribbler said...

Sugar -- "Every so often" is the key. Not ever having it is like a death sentence....

Anonymous said...

I hate the solitary too. I think tomorrow I may not leave my bed. Why bother?


John said...

Bragging again. Yea boy, it's the life.
Some women and some kids would be worse than being alone.
I have known a couple of the former.

Birdie said...

I know that feeling all too well, too, in spite of "family ties", but not here at "home".... so much to do, but no motivation.
But in some ways, we only have ourselves to a certain extent.

Sunny said...

In see alot of the same things! The not having to share the bathroom is my favorite part!

MrScribbler said...

Birdie -- "to a certain extent." I'd never deny that. But a certain large percentage of the "blame" is left over, and that goes directly to certain individuals....

Sunny -- One thing I really enjoyed about my next-to-last love was that we had a perfect system when both needed the shower at the same time. Usually, it saved time. And when it didn't, we didn't care.

John said...

Got to be a way to change the scene. I keep hoping that is true. If this has not always been the scene then there probably is. That is my theory.
Perhaps there's some sort of offsets that can be purchased to fix things. I'll add that to my other offset enterprises and let you know when I figure it out.
I'm about ready to find a shaman or medicine man to consult.

MrScribbler said...

John -- I'm thinking along the lines of a good voodoo or Obeah consultation.