i'll be the first to admit that living alone can be somewhat lonely. but good lord is it wonderful.
having some of my friends gathered into the small space this last week reminded me of that--preparing for their arrival reminded me of that. the joy of cleaning. of a clean bathroom. and wiped-down kitchen sink. the joy of buying paper towels and flowers at the grocery story that i can walk to. (i remember having a roommate's meeting at my last apartment about half-way through our last year together and there being a discussion of expenses and who pays for what and what we use and one person said, well i don't use the paper towels so i don't want to pay for them. and i probably-not-so-calmly said, I WILL PAY FOR THEM. I WILL PAY FOR THE PAPER TOWELS. AND THIS IS AN OFFICIAL INVITATION FOR YOU TO USE THEM: HELP YOURSELF). which is to say, there is a special sort of joy in those cloth-white-sheets. a special sort of joy in opening the fridge and not wondering what is mine. in keeping the eggs in one of those special egg-crate-containers.
the small joys add up to a different quality of life. one that is wholly and altogether different, but only has meaning because of all that came before. so strangely enough i am thankful for each time i paused before my front door wondering what i'd walk in on. each roommate meeting i wanted nothing to do with. each time i danced before the bathroom door wondering if i'd make it until whoever was in there GOT-THE-HELL-OUT. i am thankful for all that came before. and for having to made it to the other side--to this place that feeds me in so many ways.