I get up, the cat tries to kill me on the stairs by weaving in and out of my legs, I put the kettle on, feed the rabbit, make a brew and proceed to get myself ready for the day.
So explain to me this… Why, on a Saturday morning, when I wake up, to a silent, empty house… no spider/bat/superman hybrid stood over me, no being jumped on for squidgies, do I feel this overwhelming need to leave my house and do something. We’re talking usually up, showered and dressed for 9.30am and either shopping or on a bus somewhere.
The silence of the house seems to sweep over me like a miserable wet fog and I’m unable to cope. This has been a regular thing for almost twelve months now, so I should be used to it – last year with the pub, it was usually a member of staff or the dogs jumping on me – not like that!!! You rudey dudey’s!!! So I was never alone….. Even when I wanted to be.
I grew up being one of three girls, and in our teenage years we always had our friends round. My mum was usually up and cooking breakfast for at least four or five girls on a morning, my dad was always up for 6.30am regardless of whether he was working or not and we always had at least a menagerie of animals in the house to take care of. There was always noise and company!
I can’t even put it down to it being the chaos of having children because I remember being 23, living on my own and doing the exact same thing. The silence, that deafening silence of an empty house and I suddenly realise the reason why so many retired folk take up an outside hobbie; so they don’t have to listen to it. It’s almost frightening.
This is why I love staying with SJ on a weekend. Even if we have no plans and just wake up and sit on the floor hung over before crawling back to our rooms (yes I have my own room at her house) and getting dressed to go out for a coffee. It’s that company. It’s that extra heartbeat in the house that helps you know you’re not alone. Sometimes we don’t even speak to each other, we just grunt, but it’s enough to break that deafening silence!
I mean I don’t mind my own company, most of the time, but if I stay in bed till 9.30am and then spend ages getting ready, I feel like I’ve wasted a day.
I think what I really need is maybe someone to wake up with. Someone who is also unable to lie in too. Someone who will wake up, go downstairs, make us a coffee, bring them back to bed, wake me up and say “Where are we going today?”
That’s not too much to ask for…. Is it?
And on that note my friends, I’m off to do my shopping, drop my Avon orders off and then to the Christmas Market to drink mulled wine and eat sausages.
Peace Out
A x