Last week V was away on business. When this happens, I generally spend no more than 2 or 3 waking hours in my house a day. So I get up – late – eat breakfast, get ready for work, go to work. Make sure I have something to do after work. Come back, get out of clothes and go straight to bed.
It’s a bit odd because it’s my own house, but I feel no affinity towards it. No desire to go back to it. It’s nice looking enough and don’t get bad vibes from it, but I’m basically neutral. I don’t get all warm and fuzzy at the thought of going home.
Probably there’s something abnormal about it – but I think I’m only voicing what a lot of people feel and don’t write a post about. Everyone I talk to seems to say they hate going home to an empty house. Someone I know actually leaves all the lights, and sometimes the TV on.
I think it’s from watching all the TV shows in which young sassy cool women are always swinging around being single in the city and we begin to think that we must all be so independent to be cool. Nobody ever mentions the godawful loneliness of this life, though I guess if you have a roomie you bond with (which are more difficult to come into than the movies make out) it’s easier. There is probably the odd person who geniunely loves being alone but I haven’t met any such person – even those who handle the islands of solitude better than me confess that they postpone the going home bit. That’s why there are so many people in Lang Kwai Fong or on weeknights in HK. God knows what they do on weekends, though nobody ever talks about being lonely so everyone else who is lonely doesn’t either.
Except moi. And then you realize nobody is having such a good time as they sort of made out initially.
Anyway, I am pretty ingenious of warding of the home-alone heejeebies. Here was my week:
Monday: I thought V had picked the worst week possible to be away because while I was super busy last week, this week I had pretty much finished with the magazine. Or so I thought. However, I was at work till 10 pm on Sunday. Ate McDonalds. I am beginning to see why McDonald’s makes so much money and needs to be open 24 hours.
Tuesday: The magazine actually got finished after much much chaos. Went for a facials. Was beautiful. Even though renovation work seems to be following me everywhere. The Loo on our floor has been closed for repair – which means we hear whining and grinding all day, and worse, have to go to the 18th floor every time we want to wee. Then, it turns out beauty parlous ground floor is under repair so while I lay there with my mask on the peace was shattering by loud drilling sounds.
Wednesday: No plans so went to the library. Hong Kong Central library is awesome. You can spend ages there and come away with a fair amount of chicklit to tide you over the rest of the week. I often end up rereading chicklit which probably make me a very sad person but whatever. In case anyone is wondering, I chose to reread Swan written by Naomi Cambell (!!), predictably about the modelling world but suprisingly good. Go read it – it’s got a whodunnit aspect apart from the high glamour and celebrity mentions. I almost considered reading Star by Pamela Anderson (weirder!) but the plotline was too sappy.
Thursday: Went for dinner to house of cousin of friend. She completely understood that I would not want to be sitting at home when husband was away. Yummy homecooked dinner and banana cake with nutella for dessert!!!
Friday: Disaster. Headline error discovered in advertorial. 17,000 copies to be reprinted. It is all my fault. I am on antibiotics but decide sod it and go for a drink.
Around midnight V is back and I can cling to him like an abandoned child. He has brought me Tang!!!