I don’t have Wednesday classes this semester and I haven’t started my job yet, so there was really nowhere that I needed to be today. So I did what any self-respecting wallflower/pseudo-hermit would do. I stayed home. Spur and I went for a long walk this morning and a short one this afternoon, but other than that, I just stayed put. And you know what? I liked it.
I was afraid that I would have a really hard time coming back to an empty apartment yesterday after my parents left. I thought that I would come home and feel small and empty and alone. And I definitely felt their absence. But mostly, I felt ready. Prepared. Well-adjusted (or at least as well-adjusted as I ever feel). I went to bed at a reasonable time and woke up at a reasonable time. I prepared three meals for myself.
Of course, I’ve done all of these things on my own before, but somehow, it feels different when I’m a couple thousand miles from the home kitchen, though it’s hard to explain exactly how.
I kept trying to convince myself to do other things as well. Clean, explore the area, figure out the BC (Boston College) shuttle routes, etc. But the most I could muster was studying for my Irish language class. (I can, by the way, now greet you, ask you your name, tell you my name, tell you to stand up, and tell you to sit down in Irish, and I’m beginning to figure out the different pronunciations of broad and slender consonants.)
What’s surprising is that here I am at the end of the day, and I don’t feel like any of the time I’ve spent here parked in my recliner was wasted. I don’t feel (as I normally would) that I was useless, and I don’t feel overwhelmed by all the things I should have done. Instead, I feel like it was totally worth my while to just be here, settling into my new little nest, and hanging out with my very favorite dog.